Sketch
by Tardis-in-mordor
Summary: Jace Wayland is the best detective with the NYPD. Clary Fray is a composite artist often commissioned by the department. What happens when a witness identifies Clary's supposedly deceased father as the suspect of a murder?
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing but the plot.**

* * *

The sharp ring of a phone broke the silence of the apartment, startling Clary and causing her to jerk her hand. She groaned as she looked at the thick black line that now marred her sketch of the New York skyline. Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she checked the caller ID, noting it was the precinct.

"What?" she snapped as she answered it, upset with whoever had made her ruin her sketch.

"Hello to you, too, shortcake," a honey smooth voice came from the other side.

Clary let out an aggravated sigh. Of all people to call her, it had to be him. "What do you want, Jace?"

"I need you to get down to precinct ASAP. We got a murder witness," he said and hung up.

She quickly put away her art supplies, threw on a pair of shoes, and grabbed her work sketchpad and pencil before heading out. She walked the few blocks to the precinct and entered to find it as chaotic as usual. Phones were ringing off the hook and officers were running around all over the place.

Clary walked into the captain's office to find Luke Garroway sitting behind his desk, shuffling through papers. She cleared her throat to get his attention and he looked up at her.

"What can I do for you, Miss Fray?" he asked, a kind smile on his face.

"Do you know where detective Wayland is? He called me about a witness?"

"Ah, yes. Interrogation room C."

"Thanks," she smiled,

She made her way through all the desks and to the hallway that held the interrogation rooms. Stopping in front of room C, she lightly knocked on the door, which opened to reveal Jace.

"The princess has finally arrived," he said, bowing dramatically. "Always showing up on her own time."

Clary glared at him. "I got here as fast as I could, Wayland."

"Well, it wasn't fast enough. We need to get a composite sketch before this witness completely loses her wits."

"What happened?"

"This girl, Aline Penhallow, was visiting her mother, Jia, when they heard a noise downstairs. The mother went to check it out, and the girl heard screams shortly after. She rushed downstairs to see her mother dead on the floor and the murder escaping on foot. Said she got a pretty good look at his face, though."

Clary nodded before entering the room. Jace followed, but she stopped him. "I'd prefer to be alone with her, Jace."

He hesitated before walking out the door, but she knew he would be observing through the two-way mirror.

Clary sat down across from the girl and set her sketchbook on the table. "Hi, Aline. My name's Clary."

The girl looked up at her with red rimmed eyes. "You're not going to ask me anymore questions, are you? I already told the other detective everything that happened. I don't want to explain it again."

Clary smiled kindly at her. "Don't worry, I'm not a detective. I'm actually a composite artist. I'm here to get a sketch of the person you saw fleeing the house. I need you to describe him in as much detail to me as you can."

The girl nodded. "H-he was tall. Around six feet probably. His eyes are what haunt me the most though. They were very dark, almost black. His hair was really fair, almost white."

Clary swallowed hard as the girl began her description. It couldn't be him, could it? He was dead. Had been for nearly ten years. "Can you describe his structure more? What shape was his face? How was he built?"

"Um, his face was kinda triangular, I guess. He had a sharp, pointed chin. His chest was wide and he was really muscular. That's the best I can describe him."

Nodding numbly, Clary stared down at her finished composite sketch. There was no way it could be him. He was dead. Dead people don't randomly show up after ten years and commit murder.

"Is everything alright?" Aline asked, but Clary didn't respond in anyway. "I think something's wrong!" the girl called out.

Clary was barely aware of the door opening and somebody approaching her. "Fray? What is it?" Jace asked from beside her.

She handed him the sketch with out saying anything.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "There's no way."

"What is it?" Aline asked, fear lacing her voice.

"Is this the man you saw?" Jace questioned, showing her the sketch.

"Yes. Why? Am I in danger?"

"Not necessarily. This man is a known criminal. Think of any crime besides treason and he's probably committed it. The only problem is, he died ten years ago. Or at least he made it seem that way."

Clary shot up out of her chair and ran out of the room. She rushed into the bathroom and locked the doors. With shaky hands, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her mother's number.

"Clary?" her mother answered.

"He's not dead, mom," she whispered.

"Who's not dead?"

"Valentine."

Her mother was silent for a few moments. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

"I just did a sketch for a murder witness. She saw Valentine, mom."

"There's no way, honey. I'm sorry. Your father is dead. I identified the body myself."

"He's either alive or a man who looks exactly like him is running around New York killing people."

"I-I don't know how to explain it, Clary, but he's not alive. I have to go now. Call me later, okay? Love you."

"Love you, too, mom."

She hung up and exited the bathroom to find Jace standing outside. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I just suddenly felt sick, but I'm good now."

Jace opened his mouth to reply but was cut of by shouting out front. He and Clary ran out see what the commotion was all about. In the middle of the precinct stood a tall, dark haired man yelling at officers, demanding to see Aline.

Jace walked over to the man, Clary following behind. "I'm detective Wayland. What seems to be the problem here?" Jace asked.

The man glared at him. "I'm here to pick up my cousin but these assholes won't let me back there to get her."

"Your cousin is Aline?" Clary asked.

He turned to look at her and his eyes softened. "Yes. I just got news about my aunt and I need to get Aline. I'm the only family she has left. She's probably terrified and under a lot of emotional stress right now. I'm worried."

"Well, you see-" Jace started, but Clary held up her hand to cut him off.

"Your cousin witnessed a murder, and if the suspect is who she described, she might be in a lot of danger. We need to wait a little to see if we need to put her in protective custody. I know you're worried, but it's safer if she stays with us. If you give me a phone number, we can stay in touch with you, Mr.?"

"Verlac. Sebastian Verlac."

Clary ripped out a piece of paper from sketchbook and handed it to him. "Write down your number and I'll make sure you stay informed about your cousin."

"Thank you so much, Miss-"

"Fray. Clary Fray," she smiled at him, taking his number.

"Okay, Clary Fray. I guess I'll talk to you soon," he said before turning and leaving.

Clary stuffed the paper with his number on it in her pocket and started toward the captain's office. "I need you to keep me updated on Aline so I can keep Sebastian updated on her," she told Jace, who was following her.

"You had no authority to do that, Fray."

"I've seen the same situation enough times to know how to handle it. If I hadn't stepped in, you two would have gotten into pissing contest and made things worse."

"I would have handled that asshole just fine."

"Sure you would have," she replied, opening the door to the captain's office. "Luke, we sort of have a problem."

"What do you mean?" he asked, and glanced at Jace. "Shut the door behind you."

Clary opened her book to the most recent sketch and handed it to him. "This is the man Aline Penhallow claims she saw."

Luke's eyes widened as he looked at the sketch. "Valentine Morgenstern? But that's impossible."

"Is it really, though? I mean, this man was one of the most notorious criminals in the country. Is it really out of his reach to fake is own death? Especially with all the connections he had?"

"Let's say he did fake his own death, why stay under the radar for ten years and the suddenly pop back up and murder someone."

Clary shrugged at him. "I dunno. I'm not the detective here."

"Sir," Jace finally spoke, "I'm not sure I quite agree with Clarissa's theory, but I can promise you, I will get to the bottom of this case."

"Jace, could you step outside for a moment and let me talk to Miss Fray alone?"

"Of course, sir."

Once the door was close, Luke directed his attention back to Clary. "As you have probably already guessed, I know all about your past and your connection to Valentine Morgenstern, Clary. I know Fray isn't your real last name."

Sighing, Clary sank down into a chair. "I had guessed that. I just hoped the fact would never come up. I can't explain it, Luke. I can't explain how he's not really dead."

"That's one of the mysteries we have to solve, Clary. I need to ask you a very important favor." She gestured for him to continue. "As of right now, I'm the only one here who knows of your relation to Morgenstern. However, I have a feeling we're going to need your help on this case. Nobody knows Valentine better than you. I'd like to bring you on as a consultant for this case."

"And tell everyone that Valentine's my father? No thanks," she scoffed.

Luke shook his head. "The only other people on this case would be detectives Wayland and Lightwood. I wouldn't tell them your true relations the him. I'll just tell them your mother happened to be quite involved with profiling Morgenstern while she was a journalist and that you're well informed about him. Will you please agree to help us?"

Shutting her eyes, she let out a deep sigh. "Okay. I'll do it."

* * *

 **New story, yayyy. I'm not really sure where I'm going to take this, it was just an idea that I had stuck in my head for a while.**

 **Review. (:**


	2. Chapter 2

Dropping a pile of folders onto the table in the conference room, Clary drew Detective Lightwood's and Detective Wayland's attention to her. She stood at the head of the table and looked at the two boys.

"Valentine Morgenstern has apparently risen from the dead," she started, "and Luke brought me onto this case to help you catch him."

Jace scoffed and glared at her. "And how, exactly, do you plan to do that, short stuff?"

Clary narrowed her eyes at him. "As I'm sure Luke already told you, I happen to know a lot about Morgenstern and his past criminal activities. Now, we're stuck working together so maybe you could try being less of a whiny asshole and let me help you catch this guy and hopefully save some lives."

"So," Alec spoke up before Jace could say anything else, "what can you tell us about Valentine?"

Clary smiled at Alec gratefully. "Before he 'died,' Valentine was the ring leader of a group of criminals named The Circle. It's my belief that this group still exists and Valentine has been leading them in secret since his death. The Circle's main focus has been on the trafficking and sale of illicit drugs. However, there have been some darker crimes committed including murder and human trafficking. The Circle has also been known to have partaken in a robbery or two."

"And what does any of this have to do with the murder of Jia Penhallow?" Jace asked.

"I was getting to that," Clary snapped as she picked up one of the folders. "It would be helpful if you could just sit there and shut up. Anyway, known members of The Circle before Valentine's death, and who I presume are still members, include Emil and Anson Pangborn, Stephen Herondale, Celine Montclaire, Samuel Blackwell, and Hodge Starkweather. These individuals have not yet been tied into our current case, but after some digging I found out that Jia Penhallow, was a former member of The Circle. She had left years before Valentine's death along with other members. It's my belief that Valentine may be targeting these individuals for whatever reason."

"Who else is on the list of former members?" Alec questioned.

"Jia's ex-husband Patrick Penhallow, Lucian Graymark, and Amatis Graymark. Now, three people might not seem like much to worry about, but we don't know who else Valentine might be targeting. It could be family members, friends, coworkers, or anyone who knows the targets."

"And what exactly do you propose we do?" Jace asked, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair.

Clary shrugged, gathering her papers and walking to the door. "That's your job. I'm just here to provide information."

She stepped out of the room and had started making her way down the hall when someone grabbed her arm. Turning around, she was surprised to find Alec standing behind her. Alec usually didn't talk to her, despite the fact that she was best friends with his sister. He generally kept to himself whenever she was around.

"Hey, I just want to apologize for him," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Clary smiled lightly. "There's no need to apologize. He's always been like this toward me. I'm pretty used to it by now.

"That doesn't matter, though, Clary. You're here to help us catch this maniac, and he shouldn't be acting this way towards you. Just don't let him push you around, okay?"

"When have I ever?" she asked, before turning and leaving

After leaving the station, Clary pulled out her phone and called Izzy to tell her about her new temporary job.

"How are you going to handle working with Jace and my brother?" Izzy asked, skeptical of how the arrangement would work out. "I mean, they're both really hard to work with. That's why they ended up as partners because nobody could stand working with them."

"I've been dealing with Jace for years, Izzy. It's nothing I haven't had to handle before. And Alec has actually been really nice so far. It'll all work out fine," Clary explained as she approached the door to her apartment. A frown formed on her face as she noticed the door was unlocked. Had she not locked it before leaving?

Izzy was still talking on the other end of the phone, but Clary wasn't paying attention as she slowly opened the door to her apartment. A gasp escaped her lips as she looked around at her now completely trashed apartment.

"Clary? What is it?" Izzy asked, concerned.

"I think someone might have broke in."

"What? Clary, get out and call the p-"

"Sorry, Iz, but I gotta go."

Clary ended the call and slid the phone into her pocket. She walked tentatively into her apartment, listening for anybody that might be in there. She looked around at the torn paintings and papers strewn all over the floor. Carefully, she checked every room in her apartment, making sure her intruder was not still there.

Once she was sure her apartment was empty, she sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh and put her head in her hands. Who would do this? It wasn't Valentine's style, so that was out of the question. Something caught her eye as she scanned her apartment again.

Slowly, she got up and walked over to the coffee table in the main room. Sitting on a pastry plate was a burning cigarette, lipstick staining the butt. Under the plate was a note. In beautiful cursive handwriting were the words _Tread carefully, Clarissa._ It was signed with the initials CB.

She had been right in assuming it hadn't been Valentine. It was far worse than that. Camille Belcourt, her father's mistress, had been in her apartment. Camille Belcourt knew where she lived and most likely knew Clary was helping the police with finding Valentine, and she was not pleased.

Clary remembered walking in on her father and Camille as they were undressing each other in her father's office one day. Camille had slapped her across the face for interrupting them. Then, she had grabbed Clary's face, her manicured nails digging into her cheeks, and threatened to do horrible things to Clary if she uttered a word about what she saw to anybody.

A knock came from the door, pulling Clary back to the present moment. She cautiously made her way to the door and looked through the peephole. Standing in the hallway was Jace, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and an impatient expression on his face. Alec stood close behind him, looking up and down the hall.

Clary opened the door just enough to show herself but not enough to show her apartment. "What are you guys doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe.

"Izzy called us saying something about break in," Jace answered while trying to get a look inside the apartment.

Clary cursed under her breath. "Well, there's nothing to worry about. You guys came over here for no reason. Now, if you don't mind, I have some business to attend to." She stepped back inside her apartment and went to close the door, but Jace jammed his foot in front of the door and prevented her from closing it.

"Not so fast, Clarissa." He forced the door open and moved past her into her apartment. He let out a low whistle as he looked around. "Looks like you really pissed someone off, Clare. Not that that surprises me."

"Jace," Alec warned as he stepped inside. He turned to Clary. "Do you have any idea who might have done this?"

Clary sighed and walked over to the coffee table to pick up the note. "Camille Belcourt." She handed the not over to Alec, who read it and then showed it to his partner.

"Wow. One day officially on the job and you're already getting threats." Jace looked at her suspiciously. "What are you hiding from us, Fray?"

"I'm not hiding anything," she answered a little too quickly.

"Okay. Sure." He turned his attention to Alec. "Why don't you call the crime scene analyst and see if we can get anything else out of here."

Alec nodded and pulled out his cell as he stepped back out into the hallway.

Jace stepped closer to Clary, stopping himself only about an inch away from her. He leaned down and put his mouth right next to ear. "Just know that I am going to find out whatever dirty little secret you're hiding, Clarissa," he whispered before following Alec out of the apartment.

* * *

 **I'm really sorry about the wait on this. I just started college almost 3000 miles away from home and I've been super busy. Thank my pro writing professor for giving us time to write in class, because that's when I did this.**

 **Reviews are always appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

Clary found herself standing in her apartment, staring at the mess around her. The crime scene had been looked over for any forensic evidence, but nothing was found. That didn't surprise her, though. Camille was always careful.

"I don't think you should stay here," Jace said from behind her.

She scoffed. "I don't think your opinion matters in this situation."

"Considering I'm the figure of authority in this situation, I think you're wrong on that. My opinion matters a lot."

Rolling her eyes, she turned around to face him. "I would hardly count you as a figure of authority. Besides, I've had a lot of experience in this kind of thing."

His face shifted into a more serious expression. "What do you mean?"

Clary froze, realizing her mistake. How was she supposed to answer that? _Oh, my dad, you know the guy we're looking for, constantly had people threatening our home. But he at least taught me how to defend myself._

"I- I had a weird upbringing. Leave it at that," she finally responded, mentally chastising herself for the lame answer.

He put his hands up in a surrendering motion. "Alright, we can leave it at that. For now."

Walking around him, she sighed. "Whatever. Now, if you don't mind, I have some cleaning up to do."

Jace grabbed her arm to stop her, the serious look returning to his face. "Look, if you're going to be hell bent on staying here, then we're at least going to have police rotating in shifts outside your building.

She groaned at that. "I'm a big girl, Jace. I can take care of myself."

"Someone broke into your apartment, Clarissa. I don't care how much of a big girl you think you are, you need to have people looking after you right now."

She tore her arm out of his grip. "Why do you suddenly care, Wayland? I've known you for years and you have never once seemed to care about what happens to me."

His face suddenly became stoic. "You're right. I don't care. If you want to get yourself killed, be my guest."

He turned on his heal and left, slamming the door behind him. Clary stared at the door, a bad feeling building in the pit of her stomach. Could she really handle all of this on her own?

* * *

"Clary!" her mother yelled into the phone. "What do you mean you're _staying_ there? Do you understand how dangerous that is?"

She sighed, staring out at the setting sun. She had been sitting on her balcony reading when her mom called her, having been informed of the day's events by Isabelle.

"Yes, Mom. I know. But don't worry," she said as she looked down at the undercover cop car parked on the curb outside of the apartment building. "There's a patrol car outside as we speak."

If she was being completely honest with herself, catching sight of the car had given her some relief. And on top of that, it had made her heart flutter a little bit at the thought of Jace still going through with it. She didn't know why, though. Maybe it was just that he had done something nice for her for once in his life.

"I still don't like it, Clary. I mean, it is Camille after all."

"Exactly. It's just Camille. If she really wanted to hurt me, she would have. We know what she's capable of. But I _am_ Valentine's daughter. She knows better than to cause any harm to me. He wouldn't be very happy if that happened."

"I know, I know. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry. She's not the only person who will get upset with you involving yourself in this case. The others might not show as much restraint."

"I promise you that I'll be fine, Mom. I need to go, though. Call you later."

She hung up the phone before her mother could argue any farther with her. She was feeling overwhelmed with all the attention people were giving her because of the break in. If she didn't think it was that big of deal, then nobody else should either.

Her phone rang next to her and she wanted to scream. She hadn't been left alone all day and she just wanted some peace and quiet.

"What?" she snapped into the phone.

"Clam down there, princess," Jace's said. "We need you down at the station as soon as possible. We have another murder witness."

"Can I ask the officers outside of my building for a lift?"

"How did you know about them?" he deadpanned.

"I know an undercover cop car when I see one, Jace. I'll be there in a few."

* * *

She was directed to the same interview room where she had drawn the composite of Valentine. Except this time, it wasn't Aline sitting at the metal table. Instead, it was a boy who didn't look much older than seven or eight. Standing behind him was a female social working wearing an impeccable grey suit. Jace and Alec were nowhere to be seen.

"Are you Clarissa Fray?" the woman asked.

Clary nodded.

"My name's Helen Blackthorn. This is Jonathan Herondale." She gestured the boy who was sitting at the table with a blank expression on his face. "There was a… Incident. Detectives Wayland and Lightwood said you might be able to help."

"Help?" she squeaked out. "There must be some kind of misunderstanding. I'm just a composite artist."

"Oh, I know. Detective wetland actually said you might be able to get him to talk. He said something about you dealing with a little boy named boy Max before."

Clary sighed. Max was Izzy's and Alec's younger brother. When their parents had gone through a divorce, he had shut down. He wouldn't speak a word to anyone. But Clary had eventually figured out a way to get him to open up.

"Alright. I can try," she said.

She pulled out the chair and sat across the table from the young boy. He watched with a blank expression as she pulled out a sketchbook and a few of her cheaper colored pencils.

"Hi, Jonathan. My name's Clary. How are you holding up?" When he didn't respond, she kept going. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened to your parents. You know, whenever I'm sad, I like to draw. It always makes me feel better. Would you like to try drawing something?"

The boy nodded tentatively and Clary smiled as she pushed the sketchbook and pencils toward him. He hesitated for a moment before taking them and starting to draw. Clary snuck a glance at the social working, who was already looking at her, clearly impressed.

She looked back at Jonathan and watched as he drew. When he was finished, he set the pencils down and met her eyes.

"Are you done with your drawing?" she asked gently, and he nodded. "Do you mind if I take a look?"

He handed the sketchbook over to her without saying a word. As Clary looked at his drawing, her heart broke for the young boy. It was, what she assumed to be, a picture of what had happened to her parents. There were two figures lying on the ground, covered with red pencil. An all black, bulky figure was lurking over them. A smaller figure was hiding in a corner.

"Who's this?" she asked, pointing to the dark figure.

"The man who hurt my parents," he whispered.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"He had gray hair and demon eyes."

"Demon eyes?"

He nodded. "They were all black."

"And what did this man do to you and your parents?"

The boy opened his mouth to respond, but someone entering the interview room cut him off.

"Hey, sorry," Jace said from the doorway. "I need to take Clary away from you for a moment."

Clary looked apologetically at Jonathan. "I have to go, but Helen will stay here to help you. Why don't you tell her whatever you were going to tell me?" She smiled slightly at him before getting up and following Jace out of the room.

"What's going on?" she asked once the door closed behind them.

"A man matching Valentine's description just got away with robbing a bank," Jace explained. "Luckily the security guard was the only one killed."

She stared through the two-way mirror at Jonathan, who was now openly talking to the social working. Something about the whole case wasn't sitting right with her.

"What is it?" Jace asked, catching the concerned look on her face.

"There's something off about all of this."

"What do you mean?"

Sighing, she turned to look at him. "He's leaving witnesses behind. That's something Valentine does. I know Jonathan is just a little kid, but Valentine is completely merciless. Back in his prime he would not have hesitated to kill him. Even the bank robbery thing is throwing me off. Valentine should have his old cronies still behind him. Why would he need to rob a bank when they're probably still out there running a drug cartel? And if he did need to rob a bank, you could bet your ass he wouldn't leave anybody in that bank alive. I'm just trying to figure out what changed."

"Maybe all those years in hiding made him lose his touch?" Jace offered.

She shook her head. "No. Someone like Valentine doesn't just suddenly change his MO like this. He's changing it on purpose, and we need to find out why."

* * *

 **Sorry for the wait but college is low key kicking my ass right now. And I'm definitely not writing this to avoid preparing for finals next week or anything.**

 **Reviews are always cool.**


	4. Chapter 4

Clary dialed the number written haphazardly on the piece of paper in her hands. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, as she had never had to make this sort of phone call before.

"Hello?" a masculine voice answered.

"Hi. Is this Sebastian Verlac?" she asked.

"Yes. Who's calling?"

"This is Clary Fray. I'm working with police department and-"

"I remember you!" He cut her off. "Is this about Aline? Is she okay?"

"She's perfectly fine. I'm calling to tell you that we have decided to place her in protective custody until we catch the man who killed your aunt."

"So she's in danger?"

"Not necessarily. We just feel we shouldn't take any chances when it comes to her safety. There was another murder, and a child was left behind. We don't want to risk the suspect coming back for either of them."

She heard a heavy sigh come from him. "I just cannot believe this happening."

"I know this must be really hard for you. If you ever need anything, even just somebody to talk to, don't be afraid to call me back on this number."

"Thank you so much, Clary," he said before hanging up, his voice tight.

Clary sighed as she put down the phone. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. This whole case was getting to her. Valentine was tearing other families apart just like he had torn theirs apart.

She still remembered how her brother Jon had left right after Valentine had "died." He had idolized their father and followed him everywhere. His death had destroyed him and he ran away.

Her head shot up as pieces of the puzzle clicked together. _Jonathan_. That's why he didn't kill that little boy. The fair-haired boy named Jonathan reminded him of his own son. Valentine may have been cruel, but the one thing he would never do is hurt his own family. Maybe she had something to with the reason Aline was still alive? Maybe he was making sure he didn't blame the children for the mistakes of their parents, just like he wouldn't want Clary and Jonathan to be blamed for his mistakes?

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. With a groan, she got up from her couch and went to answer it. Checking the peephole first, she rolled her eyes as she Isabelle standing in the hallway.

"You know you could have used that device you call a phone to let me know you were coming over, right?" she said as she opened the door.

Izzy pushed past her and waved her off with a flick of her wrist. "I was in the area already," she responded.

Clary noticed the large tote bag that Izzy had with her and her eyes narrowed. "What is that bag for, Iz?"

Izzy shrugged. "It has some supplies."

"Supplies?"

Sighing, Izzy turned to face her. "You've been crazy stressed recently, Clary. So you and I are going to go out to Pandemonium tonight."

Clary groaned loudly. "Iz, I don't feel like going out tonight. Or any night soon for that matter."

"I don't care, Clary. We're going out. You're going to get hammered, dance with some hot guys, and destress."

"I don't really have a choice in this, do I?" she sighed.

"No you do not."

* * *

A few hours later the girls stepped out of a cab in front of Pandemonium. Isabelle had managed to squeeze Clary into a tight, short, and low cut black dress that left her feeling extremely over exposed.

Izzy scanned the line before apparently seeing someone she knew. "Great, they're already here!" she shouted excitedly.

"Who's already here?" Clary asked, following Izzy's line of vision. Standing close to the front of the long line were Alec and Jace. "Are you kidding me, Isabelle?"

"Sorry, but you're not the only who has been stressed beyond belief. And they're my friends, too," she said, starting to walk over to the duo.

"Okay. I'm gong to need a lot of alcohol," Clary muttered to herself and followed her best friend.

"Hey, short stack," Jace greeted, his eyes roaming over body. "You clean up pretty nice."

"Fuck off, blondie," she growled.

"You know, that's not how most people would respond to a compliment. A simple 'thank you' would suffice."

"Yeah. Not happening, Jace," she said, not looking at him as the line began to move forward. She flashed the bouncer her ID and went in, heading straight for the bar. She ordered a shot of tequila and downed it right away.

"Wow. Not even ten seconds and you're already drinking. Guess you're not as uptight as I thought," Jace said from behind her.

She motioned to the bartender to get her another shot and turned to face Jace. "Don't you have something better to do than bother me? Like maybe go dance with some of the skanks who are eyeing you right now?"

"You know," Jace started, leaning in closer to her, "you don't really seem that much different from all those 'skanks' at the moment with the way you're dressed right now."

"Maybe, but at least I'm not eye fucking you like they are," she said, gesturing to a group of girls who were standing at the edge of the dance floor and staring at Jace, not that she could exactly blame them. Jace was a very attractive man, especially at the current moment in his dark washed jeans and slightly unbuttoned black shirt. When he looked over at them the burst into a fit of giggles like a bunch of schoolgirls and Clary scoffed.

"It's not their fault that I'm so damn good looking," Jace said, winking at the group of girls. Clary could have sworn one of them almost fainted.

She was about to reply when a hand suddenly wrapped around her upper arm and Izzy appeared at her side. "C'mon Clary! Let's go dance!"

Clary didn't have a chance to say anything before Izzy dragged her off into the middle of the dance floor. She danced with Izzy for a few songs, but wasn't really feeling it. A man finally came up and took Izzy away to dance with him, and Clary took that as her chance to retreat back to the bar, where she took a few more shots.

Izzy had been right. She'd been way too stressed out lately, and she just needed to let go for a little while. So once the effects of the alcohol set in, she went back to the middle of the dance floor and did just that. She let go. She through all inhibitions out the window and danced to the music, more provocatively than she ever would have sober. She felt the hungry gazes of men on her, and stepped up her game.

A pair of hands gripped her hips and she froze for a second before recognizing the scent of the person behind her.

"You're way too sexy for your own good right now," Jace whispered into her ear as he pulled her tight against him. "All the men in here just can't seem to keep their eyes off of you, red."

Clary just smiled. "I know. I was putting on a show for them."

"I would very much like it if you put on a show like this more often."

"Maybe if you get lucky," she responded as she continued to dance to the beat of the music, but now she was going out of her way to grind on the man behind her.

She heard him intake a sharp breath of air. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now, Clarissa."

She turned around and brought his face down to hers. "I'd really like to find out exactly what I'm doing to you. Want to go back to my place?"

* * *

 **Kinda a filler chapter. Not exactly sure where I'm going at the moment. But hey, you got some drunken Clace.**

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	5. Chapter 5

She woke up with a pounding pain her head. The light from the window filtered in, hitting her straight in the eyes. Groaning loudly, she rolled over and buried her face in her pillows.

She was about to fall back asleep when a noise startled her to full alertness. The unmistakable sound of clanging pots and pans came from the kitchen. She sat up straight in her bed. Who was in her apartment? Did she bring someone home last night?

That's when it hit her. _Jace._

She jumped out of bed and threw her door open before racing to the kitchen. Standing in front of the stove was Jace in just a pair of boxers. He was whistling quietly to himself as he flipped the pancakes that were cooking on the stove.

Clary stood there for a moment, stunned. Jace was in her apartment, half naked and making breakfast after she had drunkenly invited him over. She looked down at herself real quick. She was in a pair of skimpy shorts and a lose camisole, but she had no recollection of ever changing last night.

"I know I'm attractive, but that's no excuse to stand there creepily staring at my back," Jace spoke suddenly and turned to face her.

Her eyes lingered on his abs for a moment before she met his gaze. He gave her a knowing smirk.

"W-What happened last night?" she asked once she finally found her voice.

His smirk grew a little and he took a step toward her. "Nothing much. We danced together at the club, you invited me back to your place, and the rest… is… history," he said in low, seductive voice.

Clary's eyes grew wide and she swallowed hard. It had been pretty obvious what had happened, but she was hoping it hadn't.

Suddenly, Jace burst into laughter. "Don't look so terrified, shortcake. Nothing happened. I may be a dick, but I will never do anything with a girl who can't consent." He turned back to the breakfast he was making. "I brought you home, got you changed, and put you to bed. I slept on the couch just so I could keep an eye on you. You're a very small person, Clare. You need to be careful about how much alcohol you consume," he said, taking on a serious tone. "You're just lucky I'm the one who took you home. Not someone who would have loved to take advantage of you."

"Oh, um, thanks for watching after me then," she said, awkwardly rubbing her arm. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "I'm going to go get dressed."

She quickly returned to her room and locked the door. She sat on her bed and buried her head in her hands, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed. She felt like she had made a fool out of herself. She drunkenly invited Jace to come home with her, and she knew that in her intoxicated state she had the sole intention of hooking up with him. She was glad that he hadn't taken advantage of her. She was glad that nothing had happened. But at the same time, she felt slightly rejected. Like she wasn't good enough for a drunken one-night stand. She knew this was a dumb way to think, but she couldn't help it.

With a deep sigh, she stood up and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and walked back out to the kitchen, where Jace was now also fully dressed. He glanced up at her as he talked on his cellphone, and signaled to her to wait a minute.

He hung up the phone and slipped it into one of his jean pockets. "Sorry, darling, but breakfast is going to have to wait. They had a little incident down at the precinct and need our help."

* * *

They entered the precinct together, and Clary's eyes immediately fell on Sebastian Verlac, who was handcuffed to one of the desks. His right eye was swelling and a cut on his lip was bleeding slightly.

"What the hell happened?" Clary demanded, throwing her hands onto her hips.

"Verlac threw a little hissy fit when we told him he couldn't see Aline before she left. He assaulted an officer and paid the consequences," Jordan said, walking up to her. She noticed a small bruise forming on his cheek.

"His aunt was murdered and his cousin is about to be put in a safe house in some unknown location with no way of contact. I think it's understandable that he'd be upset."

"It's no excuse to strike an officer!" Jordan yelled out.

"Are you arresting him?"

"No. Luke doesn't want to press charges," he grumbled.

"Then why the hell is he handcuffed to a desk?"

"To restrain him until he calms down."

Clary glared at him. "He looks pretty calm to me right now. Give me the key," she said, holding out her hand.

"I will," he started, " _if_ you give me all the dirty details about your night with a certain detective."

Clary's face flushed red.

"Kyle," Jace shouted, "give her the key. Now."

Jordan obliged and handed the key to Clary. She shoved past him and walked over to where Sebastian was sitting. She unlocked the cuffs, and he removed his hand.

"Thanks," he muttered, rubbing at his wrist where the cuff had been.

"Don't worry about it. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

He glanced nervously around the room, where everyone was watching them carefully. "Not here."

She nodded in understanding. Being surrounded by nosy cops wasn't the best situation to be in at the moment. "There's a nice little café right down the street. Why don't we go there?"

"Alright," he said, standing.

She started to lead him out of the precinct when Jace stopped them. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Well, considering he's not under arrest, I'm free to take him wherever I want. We're just going somewhere to talk things over. I seem to be the only one in this building capable of being decent to people," she replied, trying to keep her tone calm.

"What's that supposed to mean? I recall you thanking me for being a perfect gentleman this morning. Don't you remember? I mean it did take place in _your_ apartment after you invited me to go back to your place the night before."

Everybody within earshot was now staring at them. She knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted everyone else to believe.

"Screw you, Jace."

"We're already past that, sweetheart," he said with smirk.

She scoffed and led Sebastian out of the building, all while trying to stop the burning at the back of her eyes. Now everyone was going to think they were fucking each other. They weren't going to take her seriously anymore. She'd be just another dumb bimbo who fell for Jace's tricks.

She remained silent as she took Sebastian to the café, Java Jones, that was a few buildings away. She ordered coffee for both of them and found a table in the back corner to sit at. She stared at her coffee, still fuming at Jace.

"Soooo," Sebastian spoke, breaking the silence. "You and Wayland, huh?"

She shook her head slightly and looked up at him. "I guess you wouldn't believe me if I told you nothing happened last night, would you?"

He shrugged. "I actually think I would. You don't seem like the type of girl who just hops into bed with guys like him. So, if nothing did happen, then that was a pretty huge dick move that he pulled back there."

"Yeah, it was. But we're not here to talk about me. We're here to talk about you."

"Listen, I'm not proud of what I did back there. I was- I just- I got really upset and couldn't hold it back."

"I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you, Sebastian. You've been through a lot. And knowing Jordan, he probably egged you on. Just be glad Luke decided not to press any charges. He might be the only actual member of that force with a heart."

"I just feel like nobody understands, you know?"

"I actually kinda understand Sebastian. My brother just up and left one day. No explanation. No goodbye. I understand what it's like to have someone you care about just be gone and not get to say goodbye to them. But at least you know you'll be able to see Aline when this whole thing blows over."

"You have a point. It's just really hard. My parents were never really around, so Jia was like a mother to me, and in turn Aline's like a sister. I just feel so lost without them."

"I'm really sorry that you have to go through all of this, Sebastian. But don't worry. We'll find the man who killed your aunt and then your cousin will be safe and things will go somewhat back to normal for you. And you have my number, so if you ever need to talk, you can just call." She offered him a kind smile.

"Thanks," he said, downing the rest of his coffee. "I really should get going. I have some things to work on."

"Yeah." Clary stood up. "I should leave to. Like I said, don't be afraid to call if you need someone."

"Thanks, Clary. I really appreciate it," he said before leaving.

Clary stood there for a moment longer before leaving herself and hailing a cab back to her apartment. On the ride home she kept thinking about Sebastian. She couldn't help the guilt that pegged her. It was her father, after all, who was doing all of this. It was her father who was causing all these people to suffer. She wished she could make it all go away.

The cab dropped her off outside her building, and she sluggishly climbed the stairs to her floor. She felt exhausted, mainly emotionally. She rounded the corner to the hall where her apartment was and groaned inwardly as she spotted Jace leaning on the wall next to her door.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Wayland?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I did some digging into Verlac's background, and I don't like what I found, Clary. He has a lengthy history of assault and battery. I just need you to trust my judgment and not hang around him," Jace said. "I think it'll be best for your safety. I don't want him having the chance to hurt you in some way."

She rolled her eyes and stuck her key into the door. "After the stunt you pulled today at the precinct, I no longer have any desire to trust you or your judgment," she pulled the door open. "And Sebastian isn't the one I'm worried about hurting me right now."

With that, she entered her apartment and slammed the door in Jace's face.

* * *

 **Review. (:**


	6. Chapter 6

Over the past few weeks, Clary and Sebastian had grown closer, and they had definitely moved far past the shoulder to cry on relationship. Currently, they were on Clary's couch together. Their mouths were moving roughly against each other and Sebastian's hands were hot against the skin under her shirt. His other hand slipped under the waistband of her jeans and she arched her hips to meet his. As his hand dipped lower, her cell phone began ringing. With a frustrated groan, she pulled away from and grabbed the phone off the coffee table.

"H-Hello?" she answered in a shaky voice as Sebastian trailed hot kisses down her neck and along her collarbone.

"Miss Fray, how fast can you get to the precinct?" Jace's voice came through the phone, and she rolled her eyes. For the past few weeks, her and Jace had stuck to a strictly professional relationship, which he had been taking way too far. Clary had proposed it, angry with him and not wanting any kind of friendship. She didn't want him invading her personal life and offering his "advice" about Sebastian or anything else. She also wanted to stop the rumors flying around the precinct about the two of them sleeping together. Of course, Jace couldn't take the hit to his ego and was trying to get on her nerves by addressing her formally at all times. She would be lying if she said it wasn't working.

"How important is it?" she asked, hoping she would get a chance to finish what she had started with Sebastian.

"Valentine had made another move and-"

He was cut off as Sebastian sucked at the sensitive spot on her neck and she let out a small moan.

"Oh, dear," Jace said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, "it looks like I have called at a bad time. I must apologize, but whatever prior engagements you are tangled up in right now must wait, Miss Fray. Your assistance is urgently needed."

"I'll be right there," she sighed and hung up. "Seb," she said as she gently pushed him off her, "I need to go into work."

He sat up and pouted at her. "I had a feeling."

She laughed at his sullen expression, finding it adorable. "Chin up, buttercup. We can finish this when I get back."

She walked past him and into her bathroom to try to compose herself enough for work. As she threw her hair up into a ponytail, she noticed a mark on her neck. She rolled her eyes and finished her hair before reentering the living room.

"Really, Sebastian? A hickey?" she asked with her hands on her hips.

He just smirked at her, a playful glint in his dark eyes. "I just wanted to mark what's mine."

Her hands fell to her sides, and she cocked her head to the side, confused. "Mark what's yours?"

"Shit, that probably sounded really bad." He got off the couch and approached her, gently placing his hands on her hips. "I was trying to get the point across that I want to become exclusive, but I kinda failed, didn't I?"

"You want to be exclusive?" she asked, a smile slowly forming.

He nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, I do. Do you?"

Grinning at him, she placed her hands on either side of his face and crashed her lips against his. He chuckled as they pulled away.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"It's definitely a yes," she laughed, grabbing her keys off the table next to the door. "And we'll celebrate when I get off work." She threw him a wink and exited the apartment.

* * *

She entered the precinct and strode over to Jace's desk. His eyes were glued to his screen as he looked over some files, and she cleared her throat to grab his attention.

"Thank you for showing up, Clarissa," he greeted.

"What's this about Valentine making another move?"

"We found a body behind a dumpster today. The victim, if you could even call him that, had been beaten to death. We know it's Valentine by the imprint of the Morgenstern crest that was left on his face, presumably from Valentine's ring."

"Who's the victim?"

He stood up from his desk. "I'll have to show you because you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He glanced at her, a lazy smirk forming on his lips. "By the way, nice hickey. Sebastian give it to you?"

"Normally, that comment would have pissed me off, but I'm just glad you finally cut the overly formal bullshit."

His smirk grew wider as they started walking toward the morgue. "Well, since I've already ruined the game, I guess there's no harm in asking. Are you fucking him now, Clare?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, and turned to face him with her arms crossed. "Not that it's any of your business, but, yes, I am." She smirked right back at him. "Actually, it's more than fucking now. We're dating."

The smirk fell from his face and his expression turned stoic. "Alright. Good to know. Now, we have a body to see." Clary smiled at her small victory.

She followed him the rest of the way to the morgue, but something was nagging at the back of her mind. Once she had informed him of her relationship with Seb, she could have sworn she saw something flash in his eyes, something that looked oddly like jealousy.

They entered the morgue to find Magnus, the medical examiner, standing next to a body covered in a white sheet.

"Lovely to see you again, Clary," he smiled at her.

"Always a pleasure, Magnus," she replied. "Now, who's the victim?"

Magnus gave her a worried look before slowly pulling down the top of the sheet. Clary gasped at the face that was revealed.

"Hodge Starkweather?" she asked, making sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

Jace nodded. "That's right. Valentine's right-hand man."

Clary suddenly felt sick to her stomach and her vision started to blur at the edges. Hodge and Valentine had been best friends. In fact, Hodge had been close to her whole family. Whenever Valentine would be gone for long periods of time, he would often have Hodge check in on them. He was like a second father to her. Why would Valentine do this? And if he was willing to harm Hodge, who else was he willing to harm? Her? Jonathan? Her mother?

She made an excuse about needing to get some air, but only made it a few feet before her vision went black and she fell to the ground.

* * *

 _Clary, wake up. Clarissa, come on. Just open your eyes._

Listening to the voice, she forced her eyes open and was met with the sight of Luke leaning over her, worry etched on his face. She was lying on the couch in his office. The door was closed, the blinds were shut, and they were the only people in the room.

"There you are. How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Slightly nauseous, but okay other than that." She moved to sit up and he helped her. "How long have I been out?"

"Jace carried you in here a little less than ten minutes ago. Said you fainted in the morgue?"

Her eyes went wide. "Hodge," she whispered and jumped off the couch. "He killed Hodge. I-I have to tell my mother. I-I have to warn her."

"Shhh, Clary. Calm down." Luke lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Everything's going to be fine. I've already informed Jocelyn. She's being placed in protective custody as we speak, and Jace and Alec have no clue about it.

The tension left her body at this news, but tears sprung to her eyes. "I don't like this, Luke. I don't like not knowing what his intentions are."

"I know, I know. This must be really hard for you. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'll have police keeping watch outside your building for the next few days, and we'll try not to call you in, okay?"

"Alright," she muttered, wiping her eyes. "Thanks."

"No problem. Go get some rest."

She nodded, wiped her eyes again, and left the office. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Sebastian's number.

"Clare? Is everything alright?" he answered, worried that she was calling so soon after leaving.

"Everything's fine," she lied. "Are you still at my apartment."

"Yeah."

"Good," was all she said before hanging up. Right now, she needed a distraction, and Sebastian knew just how to distract her.

* * *

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	7. Chapter 7

An incessant knocking on the front door pulled Clary out of her sleep. With a groan, she rolled over and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was still the middle of the night, which meant nothing good could be waiting for her on the other side of that door.

She silently opened the drawer on the nightstand and pulled out a small handgun she kept in there. She exited her bedroom and made her way to the front door without making a sound. Standing on her tiptoes, she looked out the peephole and let out a sigh of relief. Jace was standing outside her door, tapping his foot and glancing nervously up and down the hall.

Clary set the gun down on the table next to the door and unlocked the door.

"You better have a damn good excuse for being here at two in the morning, Wayland," she said as she opened the door.

"Can I come in?" he asked, surveying the hall again.

She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider as a silent invitation. He entered the apartment and she closed and locked the door behind her. Something serious must have happened for him to show up here. They hadn't talked in the past few weeks, ever since Hodge had been found. He usually just had Alec relay his messages to her.

"What's going on, Jace?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

He shakily ran a hand through his hair. "It's Aline, Clary."

Her heart dropped. "W-What about her?"

"He got to her. Magnus is doing an autopsy on her as we speak."

She stared at him, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. What the hell was going on? First Hodge and now this? She just didn't understand why Valentine would have left Aline alive only to come back and kill her later. And Aline wasn't the only witness left alive.

Gasping, she grabbed Jace by the shoulders, ignoring his confused look at the physical contact. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened, Jace."

"We don't know yet. An officer went to relieve the one who had been watching over Aline and he found the other officer dead in the living room and Aline dead in her room. We have no idea what went on in there."

"And what did you guys do with Jonathan after discovering all of this?"

"We called the officers in charge of his safe house and upped the security."

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, trying to steady her thoughts. "Listen to me carefully. Call Luke, tell him to get in contact with whoever's in charge of Jonathan. They need to keep moving him. Don't keep him in the same place for more than a few days. It's the only way we'll have a chance of Valentine not finding him."

"Do you really think he would go after a child after leaving him alive?"

"Considering everything that's been happening lately, I honestly don't know."

* * *

Clary stood in the middle of the autopsy room staring down at Aline's body. Magnus was standing in the far corner, keeping a careful eye on her. He was probably afraid she would pass out again, but she knew she wouldn't. If she was going to do anything it would probably involve throwing up.

A sheet was pulled over Aline's body, covering her from the collarbone down. However, that didn't hide the cause of death. Her throat had been slit and the cut was gaping at Clary.

Something just wasn't adding up for her between Aline's and Hodge's deaths. First of all, why would he leave Aline alive the first time only to come back and kill her later? Why would he kill Hodge when he was his best friend? Second of all, there was something completely off with the method of murder. Valentine wasn't one to get his hands dirty, in a literal sense. He always preferred guns to his fists and knives. Flying under the radar for ten years must have changed him a lot more than she expected.

The door to the autopsy room opened and Jace poked his head in. "Are you ready to go home?'

She nodded slowly and gave the body one last glance before following Jace out. They had met Luke at the station to discuss future action with Jonathan, and then they had kicked Jace out for a while to discuss what they would do with Jocelyn. They were going to follow the same plan with Jocelyn as they were with Jonathan: they were going to keep moving them between different locations and up the security. However, with Jocelyn, they were also going to arm her in case anything went wrong. Clary felt a little better about it, but she still had a bad feeling in her gut.

After their discussion, she sent Jace back in so he could take of the paperwork and official preparations with Luke. That's when she had decided to go down to autopsy to view the body, hoping it might help her figure out what the hell Valentine was doing.

As she slid into the passenger seat of the car, she turned to Jace. "Can you take me somewhere that's not home?"

"Sure. Where do you want to go?"

She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh. "Sebastian's. I have to break the news to him."

* * *

Chewing on her bottom lip, she tentatively knocked on Sebastian's door. As she heard the shuffling inside, the nerves inside her stomach coiled tighter. She didn't how to do this. She'd never had to break this kind of news to someone before, and she had no idea how to do it to someone she cared about.

The door opened, and Sebastian's face lit up at the sight of her. "Clary! What are you doing her so early? You do realize it's like six thirty, right?"

She wrung her hands in front of her and swallowed hard. "Um, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of course," he said as he stepped to the side and let her through. "Are you okay? You look really upset, Clare."

She nodded. "I-I just have something to tell you. It's probably best if you sit down for this."

He obliged, but gave her a concerned look. "You're really worrying me Clary. What's going on?"

She ran a hand through her hair and started to pace in front of him. "I'm really sorry Sebastian, but Aline was found dead this morning," she rushed out before finally stilling in front of him.

He stared at her silently, the look on his face slowly shifting from concerned to outraged. "What?" he seethed as he stood up. "How could this happen?"

"We- We aren't sure yet. She was found dead during a shift change along with an of-"

She was cut off as Sebastian's hand suddenly connected with her right cheek. Her hand flew to her face as she gaped at him, tears stinging the back of her eyes. Did he really just hit her?

"You guys had _one job_. One job! All you had to fucking do was keep my cousin alive, and you couldn't even fucking do that! How are you supposed to catch the psycho behind all of this?"

"Seb, I'm sorry. I don't know how it happened! We're trying our best!" she shouted, trying to get him to calm down. He'd never acted like this toward her before.

He looked at her, disgusted. "You're best isn't good enough. Now get out. I need some time to think."

* * *

Clary sat on a park bench staring at ducks swim in a pond. It's what she had been doing for the past few hours. Sebastian had really gotten to her. It wasn't the hit that was bothering, though. It was her words. How was she supposed to catch Valentine? She didn't have any leads and more people kept dying and more people kept getting put in danger.

She had only proven to be a failure so far. She was trying her best, but maybe Sebastian was right. Maybe her best just wasn't good enough. Who had she been trying to kid? She was a composite artist for fuck's sake. She wasn't a detective. She didn't have the skills that Jace and Alec had. She only had information on Valentine's past life. But none of that seemed relevant now. She felt like she was no longer needed on the case.

She finally stood up, deciding she needed to talk to Luke. The station was only a few blocks away and she could easily walk there. She had to find out if her help was really still needed. She didn't think it was. Any information she had on Valentine didn't matter anymore. He was a completely different man than he had been ten years ago. His methods and behaviors had changed so much. It was probably better if she left everything to the professionals.

Taking a deep breath and setting her shoulders straight, she confidently walked into the precinct. She started making her way past all the desks and towards Luke's office, but Jace stopped her as she moved past his desk.

"Clary? What are you doing here?"

She turned to face him and shrugged nonchalantly. "I just came to discuss something with Luke."

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her for a moment before standing. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

He reached and gently brushed a thumb over her right cheek. "This wasn't bruise wasn't here early."

She flinched at the slight pressure applied to the sensitive spot and moved out of his reach. "It's nothing," she said with a wave of her hand. "I went home after talking to Sebastian to give him some time to process everything and went back to bed and somehow managed to fall out of bed and hit my face on the nightstand."

He looked skeptical but didn't press the matter. "Damn, Fray. You don't need to worry about Camille coming after you. You'll probably end up killing yourself somehow at this rate."

She forced a laugh before telling him that she really needed to go and talk to Luke. His door was already open and she walked in, shutting and locking it behind her.

Luke looked up from his desk, surprised. "Clary? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She sat down in the chair across from and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I really need to talk to you about my involvement in this case."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, placing his elbows on the desk and leaning against them.

"I just don't know if I'm necessarily needed anymore."

"Why would you ever think that? You're an invaluable part of this investigation, Clary."

"It's just that everything I know about Valentine and the way he does his business doesn't seem to fit anymore. He's changed so much."

"I can see what you mean by that. It's as if he has doppelgänger running around pretending to be him."

Clary's head snapped up at this and she stared at Luke with wide eyes. "That's it! A doppelgänger!"

Luke laughed at her. "You can't seriously think Valentine has a doppelgänger running around committing crime."

Clary shook her head. "Not a doppelgänger. A son."

* * *

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	8. Chapter 8

"So what you're trying to tell me is that there's a mini Valentine running around out there?" Jace scoffed.

Jace, Clary, and Alec were all sitting in Luke's office. He had called an emergency meeting once Clary had explained her new theory to him.

Crossing her arms, Clary huffed in annoyance. "Valentine's son is _not_ a mini Valentine."

Jace rolled his eyes. "I think your whole theory is bullshit, princess. If Valentine even did have a son, I'm pretty sure we would have known about it before now."

Clary threw her arms up in the air and stood up. "Do you not understand how _powerful_ Valentine was? It would have been so easy for him to hide this from the outside world. He probably had a whole fucking family that nobody knew about!"

"There's no way to prove it, shortcake."

She balled her hands into fists at her sides, trying to resist the urge to yell at him. _I'm proof! Jonathan is proof! My mother is proof! We were Valentine's fucking secret family and I'm tired of living the lie!_ She kept it all to herself, though.

"You're right, there's no concrete evidence," she lied. "But my mother was pretty sure he at least had a son."

Jace opened his mouth to speak, but Alec placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's just hear her out, man."

She smiled gratefully at Alec before continuing. "My mom would follow Valentine around. She often saw him with a boy who struck a striking resemblance to Valentine, and as time went on, the boy aged and only continued to look more and more like him. I'm just saying that I think my mom was right in assuming he had a son. It all makes sense. Someone who looks just like a dead man running around committing crimes that don't fit that man's MO. It has to be a son or a nephew or a brother or something."

"I think we should look into this, Jace," Alec said, casting a glance at his partner.

Jace sighed and nodded. "I mean, we don't have any other fucking leads, so what harm could it do? I have some friends high up in the government who might be able to help. This just better not be a goddamn waste of time, Fray."

Clary smiled, surprised by his quick acceptance of Alec's suggestion. "I promise you it won't be."

Luke, who had been silently watching the whole exchange between the three, finally spoke up, "Now that that's been settled would you two mind giving me a moment alone with Miss Fray?"

The two other men nodded before swiftly exiting the room. Clary turned toward Luke.

"What's up?" she asked.

Luke closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face before staring out the window. "I hope you realize the risk you're taking with this. Once Jace starts digging deep enough, it won't be hard for him to learn that Valentine not only had a son, but also a daughter. Even if he doesn't find out it's you right away, what do you think is going to happen once Jonathan is caught? Do you think he's just going to pretend like you're not his sister? Do you think he's not going to try to make you look just as guilty as him? Your Valentine's daughter and no matter how much good you've done, that's all people are going to see. Jace, the Lightwoods, Sebastian, the whole country."

Clary chewed on her bottom lip nervously. To be completely honest she hadn't even thought about any of that. But she knew in her heart that the risk was worth it.

"I just want Jonathan or Valentine or whoever is responsible to finally be brought to justice. And who knows, maybe having my secret out might not be as bad as we think. I don't think you understand just how heavily it weighs on me. I hate knowing that I'm the product of that monster. I hate knowing that my brother might have ended up just like him. I hate that nobody knows, and I hate that I have to constantly live in fear of the wrong person finding out. If it's revealed that I'm Valentine's daughter, but we manage to catch whoever is behind all of this, then I definitely think it's worth it. Just think of it as me paying for my sins."

Luke's gaze quickly snapped to her. "You do not have any sins, Clary. All of that lies on your brother and father. I know you're innocent. You can't help the fact that you were born into the Morgenstern family anymore than Jace can help that he was born to the Waylands or Alec can help that he was born to the Lightwoods. Just know that no matter what happens, I'll be here to support you, Clare."

Clary felt her heart constrict as she looked at the sincerity in his kind blues eyes. "Thanks, Luke," she said with a smile spread across her face.

"Are you still keen on leaving the investigation?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I think I'll stick around for a while longer."

She left his office and was immediately met with the scrutinizing gaze of Jace Wayland. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hallway, opening the door to a supply closet and shoving her inside.

"What the fuck, Wayland?" she demanded as he turned the lock and moved to face her.

He stepped towards her and she moved away until her back hit the wall and she was effectively trapped. He put his hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she didn't know if it was out of fear or excitement.

"I was going to keep my mouth shut, but after looking at your face throughout that meeting I just can't. So, I'm going to ask for a second time. What happened to your cheek, Clary?"

She narrowed her eyes and straightened her back, anger taking precedence over any other emotion. This was none of his business. "I already told you I fell out of bed."

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" he whispered dangerously low. "If that asshole Verlac is responsible for that bruise on your pretty face, I swear to-"

"It wasn't Sebastian, Jace! I fell out of bed, and hit my cheek. End of story. Not that it's any of your goddamn business anyway." She knew she shouldn't lie to him. There was no point to it. He knew what happened and he wasn't going to change his mind. But there was no way in hell that she was about to admit how weak she was to Jace Wayland. He already thought she wasn't able to hold her own, so what would he say if he knew she was getting pushed around by some over emotional man?

He shook his head, his golden eyes blazing. "It _is_ my business. As far as I'm concerned, during this investigation you're a part of my team and I always look out for those on my team. If someone's hurting them I need to fucking know so I can fix the situation."

"Nobody is hurting me but myself, Jace. I swear I'm fine. Now, can you please just let me go home?"

He dropped his arms and turned away from her without saying another word to her. However, she could have sworn she hear him mutter something about kicking Sebastian's ass under his breath before leaving the closet.

She let out a sigh of relief and waited a few minutes before leaving herself.

* * *

As she approached the door to her apartment, she had to force herself to keep in a groan of frustration. Her door, which she knew she locked, was left slightly ajar. What was it with people breaking into her home? Though, whoever it was this time wouldn't be much of a threat. Nobody who knows what they're doing leaves the door open.

With her cellphone clutched tightly in her hand, she tiptoed into her own home and silently closed the door behind her. Her apartment was a wreck again. Drawers were thrown open, furniture was flipped over, and papers were scattered all over the place. As she passed the kitchen and living room, she caught no sign of her intruder still being there.

Then, she heard the noise of something being thrown against the wall in her bedroom. She ran down the hall and stopped dead in the doorframe of her room. Sebastian was standing next to her bed, breathing deeply.

"What are you doing here, Seb?" she asked, startling him.

He turned to face her and she immediately noticed how bloodshot his dark eyes were. He took a few stumbling steps toward her. "I can't fucking believe you, Clarissa," he growled out.

Sighing, she pressed the palm of her right hand against her forehead and closed her eyes. "Seb, I'm sorry about Aline, but you can't blame me for that. I'm not responsible for what happened."

He laughed darkly. "I'm not talking about just Aline anymore, Clarissa _Fray_." He gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her hand away from her face. The emphasis he put on her last name and the scent of alcohol that was heavy on his breath sent her stomach into a series of spirals. "I'm talking about _that_." He pointed to the floor next the far wall where her jewelry box lay, completely shattered.

Fear spiked in her blood as she realized exactly what he had found. "Sebastian, I-"

He talked over her. "I came here trying to find something, anything, that would help me figure out what the fuck happened to Aline and how she got dragged into all of this, and what do I find? I find out that you're a fucking liar, Clarissa _Morgenstern_. You're a liar and a fucking sneak and a fucking betrayer. You're behind Aline's death, aren't you?"

"No! Seb-"

His rough hands shoved her, and she tripped on something behind her, landing painfully on her back on the floor. She struggled to breathe as Sebastian loomed over her and she moved to grab her phone, which had skid across the floor when she fell. Sebastian stepped heavily on the hand she was reaching with and she let out a scream.

"You killed Aline, Clarissa, and I'm not going to fucking let you get away with it."

He removed his foot from her hand, but didn't waste anytime before connecting it with her ribs. She let out another scream and he quickly grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her torso off the ground and smacking her across the face.

"You better fucking shut up, Clarissa. Don't want your neighbors calling the police would we? Wouldn't want your dirty fucking secret to come out." He delivered another blow to her face before shoving her back down on the floor. Tears streamed from her eyes and she felt blood gushing from her nose.

"Sebastian, please stop," she sobbed, feeling lightheaded.

"Please stop? Is that what Aline said to you before you fucking killed her?" he demanded as he paced next to her.

"I didn't kill her!" she screamed.

"I told you to shut the fuck up," he seethed as he kicked her again. This time she bit back her cries of pain. "I-I need to think," he muttered quietly. Clary could tell the alcohol was really starting to get to him as his pacing became slower and slower before he finally plopped down next to her, sobbing into his knees.

She took her chance to reach for her phone with her uninjured hand. With shaky fingers she sent a two word text to the only person she could trust. _Seb knows._

She dropped the phone from her hand, and Sebastian's head snapped in her direction as he heard it clatter to the floor.

"You fucking whore," he sneered.

After his next blow, her world went black.

* * *

 **I wrote this in kind of a rush, so sorry for any mistakes.**

 **Review.**


	9. Chapter 9

She was swimming in darkness, but she could hear someone calling her name. She tried to move toward the sound, but the darkness was too heavy and weighed down greatly on her muscles.

"Get him out of here!" she heard someone shout, although it sounded distant and muffled. "Come one, Clary. Wake up."

The desperation in their voice motivated her to work harder. She put all the effort she could into reaching the source of the voice, and was finally able to open her eyes.

A pair of familiar light green eyes greeted her. "Magnus?" she croaked out.

"Hey, biscuit," he replied, offering a small smile. "Can you try sitting up for me?"

She nodded, wincing as she struggled into a sitting position. "What are you doing here?" she asked as he looked her over.

"Luke called me when he found you passed out on the floor with Sebastian next to you. What the hell happened?" He opened a first aid kit that he had with him as he spoke.

Everything suddenly hit her like a train. Coming home to find Sebastian going through her things. Him yelling at her after finding out her secret. Texting Luke before finally losing consciousness.

"H-He attacked me."

"No shit. I want to know _why_." He pulled out a few sterile cloths and she watched as he poured rubbing alcohol onto them. He looked at her sympathetically before saying it might sting a bit, and touched the cloth gently to her face.

She let out a hiss as the alcohol burned the cuts on her skin. "He blames me for Aline's death," she answered. It wasn't a complete lie; it just wasn't the whole truth.

"Well, it's a good thing you texted Luke. You're looking pretty banged up. We should probably get you to the hospital to get thoroughly checked out."

He offered her his hand, helping her stand up, and she flinched at the pain that radiated through her body. There wasn't an inch of her body that didn't hurt in some way. A knock came from the front door and Clary let out a groan.

"Who the hell is that?"

Magnus looked away from her guiltily. "I actually have to get back to work, so I can't take you to the hospital myself, so I called Jace and asked him to."

She moved her hand out of his. "You _what_?" she hissed.

He put his hands up in a defensive motion. "I'm sorry. But he was the only one available."

"Luke couldn't do it?"

"He's busy taking care of Sebastian. He didn't want anybody else talking to him for some reason."

Jace knocked on the door again and Clary let out a sigh, mumbling out a "whatever."

Magnus opened her door for her, revealing Jace. He was standing in the hall, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Clary was honestly a little surprised to see him in his street clothes, a simple pair of jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt.

"Thanks for doing this, Jace," Magnus said. "Catch you later, biscuit."

Clary glared at his back as he disappeared down the hallway. Once he was out of sight, she turned and acknowledged Jace. "Hey," she said lamely, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Hey," he greeted back. "Ready to go?"

She nodded and followed him out of her building. He led her into the parking garage and to a shiny black Lexus. He opened the door for her and she slid in, feeling suffocated by the thick silence between them. She was waiting for a "I told you so" from him.

He started the drive to the hospital, his eyes focused completely on the road. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

"Just spit it out already," she suddenly blurted once the drive was a little over half over and she could no longer stand the silence.

The car swerved slightly as he jerked in surprise at her raised voice. "What?"

"I know you're just dying to say something, Wayland. Might as well get it over with. Let me have it."

"Verlac had given you the bruise on your cheek, didn't he?"

"Yes. He did. Happy?"

"I can't believe you, Clary. If you had just fucking told me the first time we probably could have prevented this whole thing! I can't believe you fucking were just going to let him go without any consequences for _hitting_ you!"

"I-I'm sorry," she squeaked out.

He sighed and ran a hand through his golden curls. "No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be yelling at you right now. I'm just upset. When Luke told me what happened… I-I'm just glad you're okay."

She was saved from replying as he pulled up in front of the hospital.

* * *

A few hours later, Clary was sitting in Luke's office. She had been checked over at the hospital, and a few minor injuries. The worst was a few bruised ribs, but aside from that she only had some cuts and bruises. She just didn't know how bad it looked yet. She had refused to look at herself in the mirror, afraid to really see the damage.

Now, she was sitting across from Luke. He had called and told her that she needed to come to the precinct as soon as she left the hospital.

"Sebastian has agreed not to tell anybody about what he discovered as long as you agree to not press charges and we have him put in witness protection. He's afraid you, or your family, might come after him now that he knows," Luke explained to her. "That is, if that's what you want."

She nodded numbly. "I guess."

"You guess? Clary, this is a huge decision. You have to be sure."

She shrugged. "I'm just so tired of keeping this secret, Luke. It's exhausting. But I'm also not ready to have everyone know yet. I mean, after Seb's reaction, I'm really scared."

"I understand. But are you sure you're okay with his deal? I mean, he's going to get off scotch free and disappear from the face of the planet."

"I'm sure."

"Alright. I already had someone draw up a NDA and contacted somebody with witness protection. All we need is Verlac's signature and then we'll send him on his way. But this also means you have to sign a NDA saying you won't tell anyone that you know about Sebastian's placement in the program." He reached into a file on his desk and pulled out a piece of paper, sliding it across the desk toward her.

"Okay." She picked up a pen and signed her name and the date at the bottom of the page. "Done."

"We're going to let Sebastian go home, clean out his house, and maybe say a few goodbyes. He's going with the cover of not being able to handle the deaths of his aunt and cousin and needing to move away from all the memories. He'll be put in the program first thing in the morning, just so you know. Until then, I'd keep an eye out for him."

"Will do," she said. She suddenly felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed.

"How did he even find out, Clare? I thought you were being careful."

"He blamed me for Aline's death and went through my things trying to find proof. I kept my birth certificate and a Morgenstern ring in a jewelry box and I guess he found it. He flipped out, yelling at me, saying everything was all my fault. Not that he's wrong."

"Oh, Clary. None of it's your fault. You can't blame yourself for the actions of those related to you."

She forced a smile. "Yeah, you're right. Can I go home?"

"Of course. Try to get some rest. I'll see you later."

Clary said goodbye and rushed out of his office. No matter what he said, she was going to continue to blame herself. It was her fault. _She_ was the one with a homicidal brother. _She_ was the one keeping this huge secret. _She_ was the one not trying hard enough to stop him. The only way she would stop feeling guilty would be for her to finally bring Jonathan down.

* * *

She walked into her apartment, anxious to finally go to bed. However, the smell of cigarette smoke filled her nose, causing her stop in her tracks. She looked up and locked eyes with a pair of icy green ones.

Sitting at her dining room table was Camille Belcourt, a cigarette sitting between her blood red lips. She pulled it slowly out of her mouth and blew out the smoke, a smile creeping across her face. "Hello, Clarissa. Might want to lock your door the next time you leave."

"What are you doing here?" Clary demanded, crossing her arms.

Camille's grin grew wider as she stood up, putting her cigarette out on the table. "I gave you a warning, Clarissa, and you didn't listen. A little birdie told me that you've put together the pieces and figured out the truth about Jonathan."

"So? Are you here to 'teach me a lesson'? In case you hadn't realized it, you're a little late." She gestured to her bruised face.

Camille slinked closer to her. "No, sweetie. I'm here to give you another warning. Leave this case alone. Drop it. Don't offer anymore help. Or else mommy dearest might pay for your mistakes."

"Y-You don't even know where she is."

Camille let out a humorless laugh. "That's so cute, Clarissa. You really believe I don't have eyes and ears in the department? How do you think we got to Aline? If you don't heed this warning, your mother just might reach a similar end." With that, Camille sauntered past her and out of her apartment, leaving her standing there in shock.

Who else was going to get hurt because of her? She couldn't let something bad happen to her mom. It was all because of her that her mom had to stay hidden anyway. Clary was chasing a wild dream of bringing justice to the males of her family, but could that ever really happen? They were too powerful and would stop at nothing to keep from getting caught.

The ringing of her phone brought her out of her thoughts, and she realized her cheeks were wet from hot tears.

"H-Hello?" she answered, her voice cracking slightly.

"What the fuck is this I hear about Sebastian walking free?" Jace's raised voice came from the other end.

"I'm not pressing charges against him," she whispered, not having the energy to fight with him.

"What the fuck, Clary? Are you fucking kidding me? After the talk we just had to day? I can't believe this. You're just going to let him beat the shit out of you and get away with it? What? You don't want your little boyfriend to get in trouble? I expected better from you, Fray. If you think-"

"Listen, Jace. Now's not a good time for this," she said, cutting him off.

He must have heard something in her voice because he immediately stopped his ranting. "What's wrong?"

"Camille Belcourt was here. In my apartment. Again." She didn't have it in her to lie or come up with some lame excuse.

"Lock your door and stay inside. I'll be right there."


	10. Chapter 10

She sat on her couch with a hot cup of tea clutched between her hands. She stared blankly at the infomercials playing on the television. Camille breaking in to apartment she could handle. Camille threatening her she could handle. Camille threatening her mother, however, she could not.

She was at a complete loss and didn't know what to do. Should she just come clean to everyone and risk being ostracized? She should she try to figure out who the mole is? Should she just hope Camille wouldn't really be able to get to her mother and that Jonathan actually wouldn't hurt her anyway?

A loud knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump a little and spill tea over her hands. Clary let out a few curses as the liquid burned her skin and quickly set the cup down before getting up. She grabbed a handgun that she had placed next to herself on the couch and clicked off the safety.

With gun firmly in her grasp, she silently walked to the door. Looking out the peephole, she let out a sigh of relief and put the safety back on before unlocking and opening the door.

"Pack a bag. You're not staying here a moment longer," Jace ordered as he stormed into her apartment.

"Hello, Jace. Thanks for coming over, Jace. Why don't you come in, Jace," Clary mumbled as she closed the door behind him.

When she turned back around, he was staring at her with a fire burning in his golden eyes.

"Do you _think_ this is a time for your attitude, Clarissa?" he seethed, and she flinched at the use of her full name. "Or do you just not think at all? Because you definitely weren't thinking when you let Verlac off scot-free. And you sure as hell weren't thinking when you allowed Camille to break into your home, not once, but fucking twice."

Clary felt tears burning at the back of her eyes as her throat constricted. For as long as she'd known Jace, she couldn't remember ever seeing him this infuriating. And he definitely had never directed his anger at her like this before.

Jace noticed her watery eyes and the quiver of her bottom lip. "Don't you dare fucking cry right now, Fray. You have ten minutes to pack some things before I drag your ass out of here."

She quickly shoved past him and into her room just as the tears started to spill over. She didn't know what she expected when Jace said he was going to come over, but this was definitely not it. He had been a complete dick before, but this was something entirely new. Didn't he know how terrified she was at the moment? How vulnerable? She just didn't understand why he was treating her this way.

She threw some clothes and toiletries into a duffle bag before meeting Jace in the main room of her apartment exactly ten minutes later. Jace turned around, and she could have sworn she saw something like regret flash in his eyes when he saw her puffy, red eyes, but it was gone as fast as it came.

"Come on, let's go," he said as he took the bag from her and led her out of the apartment and out of the building.

She waited until they were in his car and driving down the street before saying anything.

"W-Where are we going?" she asked, her voice thick.

"The precinct. We'll explain the situation to Luke and see what he wants us to do."

She nodded, recognizing that Jace didn't want to talk. The rest of the car ride was filled with a tense silence as Jace raced to the precinct. He pulled into the parking spot in record time and started toward the doors of the building before Clary even had a chance to get out of the car. She scrambled out of the car and into the building, almost tripping in her haste to catch up.

Jace burst into Luke's office with Clary following quickly behind him. A very startled Luke looked up from his desk with wide eyes. Concern flashed across his face as soon as he took in Clary's appearance. "What happened? What's wrong?" he asked, standing up and crossing the room to her.

"Camille Belcourt broke into her apartment again today. Somehow she managed to get two people breaking in in a single day."

Luke shot Jace glare, clearly not appreciating the way he was speaking. "Is that true, Clary?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice and not wanting to say anything that might set Jace off again.

Luke let out a sigh and looked to Jace again. "Can you give us a moment alone? You might want to start writing a report for this."

Jace nodded and left without a word. The second he was out of the room, Clary burst into tears again. Luke looked panicked for a moment before pulling her into his chest, making her cry harder. He was hugging her and trying to comfort her like a father would. Why couldn't she have gotten a normal father like Luke? What did she do in a past life in order to deserve Valentine and all the shit that came along with him.

Once her tears finally subsided, he spoke again. "What happened, Clary?"

Clary recapped the story for him, telling about coming home to find Camille in her apartment. She told him about her threats and how there was apparently a mole within the department. She even told him about Jace's phone call and the way he acted when he showed up.

"Well, Jace was right about one thing: we can't let you stay there anymore. It's too dangerous."

She nodded in understanding. "I just don't know where to go," she said, wrapping her arms around her abdomen protectively.

"Do you have friends you could stay with? What about Izzy and Simon?"  
Clary shook her head. "I can't do that. If I stay with them, then I put them in danger too. And I'm so tired of everyone else being put in harm's way because of me, because of my family."

"Alright. Why don't you go to the break room and make some coffee or something. I'll talk to Jace and see if we can't figure something out."

She bit her bottom lip and nodded before exiting his office. She made her way through the bullpen, walking past Jace's desk without so much as a glance in his direction.

In the break room, she started setting up a pot of coffee in the hopes that the mundane task would help distract her. As she poured herself a cup, she felt someone else enter the room. She turned around to catch Raphael Santiago leaning against the doorframe.

"Hola, Clary," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

"Just helping Jace and Luke out with a few things," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She really didn't want to be in a room alone with Raphael. He was a newer recruit, and he just gave her weird vibes.

"Ah, yes. The Morgenstern case, right?"

"That's the one," she replied flatly, taking a sip of her coffee.

"What exactly are you doing on it? Last I checked you weren't a detective or an officer."

She shrugged, staring down at the liquid in her cup. "Consultation. My mom was a reporter and followed him closely while he was still alive. I have a bunch of her journals and everything."

"That seems might convenient," he said with a smirk, almost as if he knew something she didn't.

"Yeah, I guess. Listen, I really gotta get back to Luke," she said, no longer able to stand the discomfort she was feeling from his presence.

"Of course. I'll be seeing you around," he said with an off-putting smile as she exited the break room.

She quickly made her way back through the bullpen and to Luke's office, wanting to be as far away from Raphael as fast as possible. She was about to knock on the door when she heard Luke's raised voice.

"I don't understand how you could say those things to her, Wayland. Especially in the state she's in right now."

"Clary's a big girl, sir. She can handle herself," Jace replied.

"That might be so, but even tough girls like her can be vulnerable some times. She's gone through so much just today, and the last thing she needed was you going off on her like that. If I'm going to send her home with you and Alec, you better learn to be a little more considerate of her feelings. You know she's like a daughter to me."

Clary's brow furrowed. He was sending her to stay with Jace and Alec? In what world was that a good idea? Alec and her got along fine, but he honestly couldn't expect her and Jace to get along for an undisclosed amount of time. No matter how polite Jace tried to act, there was no way they wouldn't end up ripping each other's throats out.

The door suddenly opened and Clary jumped back in surprise. Jace stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking down at her.

"Eaves dropping now, are we?" he said with a smirk.

Clary glared at him. Did he really think he could just return to his normal annoying self and she would forget how he had acted toward her a little over an hour ago?

"I didn't want to interrupt," she responded.

"Well, I guess you know what the plan is for now. You get to be one of the girls lucky enough to come home with Jace Wayland."

Rolling her eyes, she scoffed. "I've somehow landed in my own personal hell," she muttered.

While she was dissatisfied with the situation, she was pretty sure she knew why they had decided on her staying with Jace and Alec. For starters, she already knew them. On top of that, they were both trained detectives and would be able to make sure she was safe. Even her brother and his cronies wouldn't be stupid enough to try something while she was living with two members of the NYPD.

"Let's get you to your new home," Jace said unenthusiastically, leading her out of the precinct and back to his car.

She buckled herself in and looked over at Jace, who was staring down at his lap, keys still in hand. "Do you just plan on us sitting out here all night?" she asked.

"Listen, Clary," he said, sounding slightly nervous, which surprised her. Jace was never one to be nervous. Ever. "I just want to apologize for the way I behaved earlier. I was just upset at the whole situation and I took out on you and you didn't deserve that."

Clary rolled her eyes, staring out the windshield. She didn't believe a word he said. "You don't have to apologize just because Luke told you to. Like you said, I'm a big girl and can handle myself."

He sighed in frustration as he put the key in the ignition. "I'm trying to be nice. Could you stop being a bitch for five seconds?"

"I wouldn't be a bitch if you weren't constantly a dick."

"I am not constantly a dick!" he shouted as he pulled out of the parking lot. "Who rushed over to your apartment once you said Camille was there? Me. And who is letting you stay at his house in order to keep you safe? Again, that would be me."

"I appreciate you coming over, but that doesn't make up for the shit you said to me once you were there. Doing a few nice things doesn't make you a good person, Jace Wayland. And the only reason you're letting me stay and the only reason I'm agreeing to is because we both know it will make Luke happy. If I stay out of your way and you stay out of mine until we finally resolve this case, we should be just peachy."

Jace huffed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, but didn't say anything. They remained silent for the entire drive to his house.

* * *

 **I've meant to update more because it's summer. Unfortunately, I've pretty much been working full time for this entire vacation, so I haven't really had the time or energy and I'm really sorry about that. I'll try to get a new chapter up quicker than I have been recently.**


	11. Chapter 11

_A woman's scream echoed down the dark hallway, the sound burying itself in her bones and turning her stomach. She knew that scream. It was her mother._

 _She forced herself to move forward, her arms stretched out in front of her as she tried to feel her with through the pitch-blackness. Her feet were bare, and she could feel the rough asphalt beneath her cut into her skin._

 _Clary took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Her mother was in danger. That's what she needed to focus on, not the panic slowly clawing its way up from the pit of her stomach._

 _Another scream cut through the air, and she made herself move faster. She was running out of time. Her mother was running out of time._

 _She tripped over something on the ground, landing painfully on her hands and knees. The asphalt scraped her bare skin. She scrambled up, ignoring the stinging from her new wounds. All of her focus was on finding her mom._

 _When she looked in front of her again, there was suddenly a small stream of light spilling into the hall. She could no see the rocky floor and the dirt packed walls surrounding her._ Where was she?

 _A yelp of pain brought her back out of her thoughts and she started running toward the light. That's where her mom had to be. She reached the light and came to a door that was cracked open. The large wooden door squeaked loudly as she pushed it open completely._

 _There was a body lying in a heap in the center of the small room. The coppery scent of blood filled her nostrils as she noticed the red liquid surrounding the body. She instantly recognized the pale skin and mess of red hair of the body._

 _"Mom!" she cried out._

 _She went to move forward, but a hand suddenly grabbed her from behind._

She woke up with a start, a strangled scream forcing its way up her throat. A light sheen of sweat covered her body and she was breathing heavily. She hastily reached around for a light and managed to find a lamp on the bedside table.

As a soft yellow light filled the room, she let out a sigh of relief. She was no longer in _that_ room. She was by herself and she was safe.

The door suddenly flew open and she jumped in surprise. However, she quickly tried to calm her racing heart as she realized it was Alec standing in the doorway.

"Are you alright? We heard you scream," he said, scanning the room.

"Yeah," she sighed. "It was just a bad dream."

"Are you settling in okay?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

She nodded. "Sorry Luke stuck you guys with me."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"All of this was his idea. It's kinda hard to say no to your boss."

He cracked a small smile. "Luke had nothing to do with this. Jace came up with it and proposed it to him."

Now it was her turn to look confused. "Why would he do that? Jace hates me."

Alec let out a light chuckle. "You don't get it, do you? Jace cares about you. He might have a funny way of showing it, but believe me he cares."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged. "I'm tired of Jace moping around every time he blows up at you instead of conveying his worry in a more productive way. Speaking of which, he's probably pacing in his bedroom right now after convincing me to come check on you since he didn't want to 'fuck it up like usual,'" he said, making air quotes with his fingers when speaking the last five words.

"I guess you probably want me to go talk to him, huh?"

He smiled and nodded. "I would greatly appreciate it," he responded before leaving.

Clary sat there for a moment, trying to process everything. Was Alec right? Did Jace actually care about her? She just couldn't wrap her mind around it. She spent so much time hating him, thinking he hated her right back.

She let out a heavy sigh before throwing the comforter off and getting out of bed. She quietly made her way down the hall and paused outside of Jace's door, which was cracked open slightly. She could hear his footsteps across the floor and see his shadow as it passed by the door. He was pacing, just like Alec had said.

She gently pushed the door open and he stopped his pacing immediately. He stared at her and she squirmed under his gaze. She looked around the room and was surprised by how clean and bare it was. The walls were white and lifeless and there didn't seem to be a single object out of place.

"Hey," she said, wrapping her arms around her middle.

"Hey," he responded. "Are you okay? What happened?"

She shrugged. "Just a bad dream. Sorry for the screaming."

"It's fine. What was the dream about?"

She moved her gaze to her bare feet. "My mom." Her voice cracked and the back of her eyes stung as the dream flashed through her mind again.

"You know she's going to be okay, right?" he said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him and shook her head as tears started to leak from her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

His brow furrowed. "Sorry? For what?"

She didn't respond, crying harder instead. What was she sorry for? For worrying him? For putting him in danger? For lying to him this entire time? What wasn't she supposed to be sorry for?  
"Hey, don't cry," he said, looking at a loss for what to do.

She knew she couldn't keep this secret any more. She had to tell him. She had to let him know. She couldn't keep putting everyone in danger. But she also wasn't sure if she could tell him. Would she be able to handle his reaction?

"I'm sorry," she said, stepping out of his reach. "I-I didn't mean to cry. I'm, uh, just going to go back to bed."

She turned to leave, but he stopped her. "Listen, Clary, if you ever need to talk or something I'm always here, you know?" he said, running a hand through is already disheveled hair.

"Thanks," she responded with a small smile before quickly exiting.

Back in her room, she sat on the edge of her bed with her head buried in her hands, feeling more confused than she ever had. She had not been expecting that interaction with Jace. It had to have been the most civil they had ever been with each other. It was actually more than civil; it was nice.

All it did was add to her guilt. Knowing that he cared about her on some level was going to make it so much harder to keep lying to him, but letting him know her secret was not something she could just impulsively do. There was one person she wished so desperately she could talk to about, but that person was locked up in a safe house somewhere and she had no way of contacting her.

The only person she could talk to at this point was Luke, but the best he could do was offer advice. He didn't know what it was like. He didn't know how hard it was to hide a huge part of your life from everyone, knowing they would more than likely hate you for it once the truth got out.

She just hoped that when the time came, Jace would be able to forgive her.

* * *

She sat in Jace's desk chair with her legs drawn up and a sketchpad resting on her knees. Alec and Jace both had to work today, and she was forced to come with. They didn't want to leave her alone.

So instead of sketching in the silence and comfort of her own room, she was forced to do it in the noisy precinct surrounded by people and the constant sound of chatter and phones ringing. It was making it very hard for her to concentrate and she groaned in frustration.

"Everything alright?" someone asked from behind her.

She jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be there, and turned around. Raphael was standing behind the chair, staring down at her drawing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said.

"Who's that?" He nodded to her sketchpad.

"My mom," she responded, quickly closing the pages.

"You look a lot like her."

She raised her eyebrows. She had no idea how he could see the resemblance from the sketch. It was a wide shot of her mother standing in her studio painting. There weren't really any distinguishable features aside from hair color and textures. She was about to respond when Jace suddenly showed up next to his next.

"Santiago," he said curtly, glaring at Raphael.

"Ah, Wayland, how nice of you to join us. I was just admiring Clary's work," Raphael replied.

"How nice of you," he sneered. "Now if you don't mind, I need to have a moment alone with her."

"Of course. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your work. See you later, Clary." He winked and walked away.

Jace walked him walk away. The second he was out of eyesight, he turned his attention to Clary.

"I don't want you talking to him. There's something off about him."

Clary opened her mouth to give a snarky comeback about not telling her who she could interact with, but immediately closed it as the conversation she had with Alec the previous night ran through her head. He was just showing he cared. Maybe not in the best way, but he was trying. She just looked at him and nodded instead.

He raised one of his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? That's it? You're not going to argue with me?"

She shrugged. "I trust your judgment."

A smile broke out on his face at her response. "Wow, Fray. Was not expecting that from you."

"How did your interviews go?" she asked, changing the subject. Alec and he had been gone for the past hour and half interviewing people who said they had information on their case.

"It was a bust," he sighed, leaning against the desk. "Nobody really had any information and it ended up being a huge waste of time."

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't see that coming."

"Yeah, it's expected. But we have to at least try on the off chance that someone actually knows something for once. Anyway, Iz wants to go out tonight."

Clary closed her eyes and groaned. "Why," she whined.

"She thinks this case is stressing us out too much and that we need to 'let loose.' Her words not mine."

"And I'm guessing there's no excuse we can make as to why we can't go?" She did not want a repeat of what happened the last time they went out.

Jace let out a chuckle. "Knowing Iz, there's not a chance in hell."

* * *

Clary sat in a booth in Pandemonium drinking a glass of water. There was no way she was drinking alcohol tonight. Not after what happened the last time she went out with Izzy, Alec, and Jace. Apparently she was the only staying sober for the night, though. She had watched her friends down numerous rounds of shots, and they were currently somewhere in the throng of people grinding on the dance floor.

She had no interest in joining them. She didn't even want to be there. The only upside of her night was that Izzy had allowed her to dress herself, so instead of a tight revealing dress, she was in jeans and a dressy top.

Someone stopped next to her table, and she looked up to kindly ask them to leave her alone, but her blood ran cold as she met a pair of familiar black eyes.

"Hello, little sister," the man said, a smirk spreading across his face. His eyes were the same color she remembered, but his hair was black now. He had to have recently dyed it, maybe trying to fit in.

"J-Jonathan?" she stuttered out, before desperately looking around the club trying to find Jace or Alec.

Jonathan tsked at her. "I wouldn't draw any attention to us, Clarissa. You cause a scene, and with the press of a button I can have Jocelyn dead," he said, waving a phone in the air.

"You wouldn't," she gasped.

"Really, Clarissa? You think I'm above hurting mommy dearest? That bitch means nothing to me," he spat.

"What do you want, Jon?" she asked, trying to sound more calm than she was. Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and she felt like she might pass out. Why was here of all places? Was he following her? And how did he find their mom?

"I just wanted to talk to my little sister," he responded, sliding into the booth next to her. "Is that a crime?"

"No, but killing people is."

"Oh, you've got an attitude on you. I like it, Clarissa."

"You're still not telling me what you want."

He shook his head slightly at her. "I told you, I just want to talk."

"About what?"

"About your little investigation, Clarissa. What else? I want you to stop being involved. It is such a disrespectful thing to do to our family. After everything fath-"

"Valentine was a coldblooded criminal," she seethed. "And you're no different than him. I can't wait for the day they finally bring you down."

"What game are you playing at, Clarissa? You think that if you help them they'll just forge the truth when it comes out? Face it, they're going to think you're just as much a Morgenstern as I am. Do you think your little friends are going to be happy and forgiving when they learn you've been lying to them this entire time? I have a hard time believing you're really that naïve."

"I don't care what happens as long as you're off the streets and no longer hurting innocent people, Jonathan."

"I don't believe you when you say that. I think you really care. That's why you haven't told them yet. Because you're afraid of what their reactions will be." He glanced toward the dance floor. "Speaking of, the golden boy is on his way over here right now. While I would love to continue this conversation, I need to take my leave. But I'm going to leave you with a piece of advice. Watch your back and drop the investigation, or things aren't going to end very well for you." With that, he stood up, and quickly stalked toward the exit.

"Who was that?" Jace slurred as he stumbled up to the table.

"Just some guy," she responded, staring at the door that Jonathan had just walked through. "Is it alright if we go home?"

"I think I'm going to stay," he said, looking across the room at a tall blond girl who was biting her lip at him. "But I'm sure Alec won't mind leaving with you. Do you want me to go get him?"

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'll go find him, and you can go talk to that girl you're making googly eyes at."

She got out of the booth and walked toward the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the club. It took her awhile, but she finally spotted Alec. He was dancing, but remained close to Izzy, and she knew he was just looking out for his sister. She yearned for that normal familial relationship.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked as she approached him.

"I just feel really sick," she lied. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind going home with me? Jace is a little preoccupied." She pointed to the booth where Jace and the blonde girl were now sitting, his arm slung around her shoulders and her laughing at whatever he was saying.

"Yeah, of course. Just let me get Iz and we can leave."

She thanked him and headed over to the exit to wait for them. Jonathan's words swam around in her head. She was afraid of their reactions. She was putting off telling them for that exact reason. But she had dug the hole too deep at this point. There's no way she could come clean until Jonathan was caught. If she told them now, they would all turn on her. They wouldn't trust her. And she needed their trust in order to help take him down. But she swore to herself that the second he was in handcuffs, she would come clean. No matter the consequence.


	12. Chapter 12

Clary took a sip of the steaming coffee in her hands, flinching slightly as the liquid burned her tongue. It had been a little over a week since she had seen Jonathan, and she had barely been able to sleep. Her nights were spent tossing and turning as she turned over every possible bad outcome in her mind. There was no way she could win with the situation she was in. If she stayed involved in the investigation, Jonathan would hurt her mother. If she removed herself, Jonathan would hurt more innocent people. If she told Jace and Alec about her relation to Jonathan, they would hate her. If she didn't, they would find out eventually. And they would hate her. She felt trapped. No matter what she did, it would end poorly for either others or herself.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Alec appear in the doorway to the break room.

"There you are," he said "We have another murder, but our usual crime scene sketch artist is out with the stomach flu and we don't really have time to find another. Would you mind doing it?"

"I-I don't know, Alec," she responded. "I've never done a crime scene sketch before." She knew it wouldn't be a problem, but she had been trying to gradually remove herself from the investigation She didn't know if she was going to quit it altogether, and was trying to distance herself from the case while she thought about it.

"It's really easy, Clary. Just rough sketch it and then draw the final sketch to scale. Please? We could really use your help."

"Yeah, I guess I'll do it," she sighed. Alec never asked her for anything, and she knew she would have a hard time saying no.

She took another gulp of her coffee before setting it down and following Alec. He led her through the precinct and out the back to where Jace was waiting next to a squad car.

"What is Clary doing with you?" Jace asked.

Alec shrugged as he walked around to the passenger door. "She agreed to sketch the scene." He turned his attention to her. "You okay sitting in the back?"

She rolled her eyes, but nodded. She really did not want to sit in the back behind the cage like a criminal, but knew she didn't really have a choice. There was no way in hell Jace or Alec would switch with her.

"Are you serious?" Jace questioned, throwing his hands up in the air. "She's never seen a dead body in person before and you're going to bring her with us to a _murder_ site?"

"It's not like she didn't agree to it. I'm not forcing her to do anything she doesn't want."

"How about we don't talk like I'm not standing right here," Clary interjected, crossing her arms across her chest.

Jace looked at her. "When's the last time you actually got a goodnight's sleep, Fray?"

Clary looked down at the ground and shrugged. "A week ago?"

He looked back at Alec and gestured to her. "See? She's underslept and not thinking clearly. We can do the sketch ourselves it's not that hard."

Alec scoffed. "Please. I've seen your sketches before. This case is too important to not have clear sketches, Jace. Clary, you're fine with doing this and knowing you'll see a dead body, right?"

"Yeah, I'm good with it. Promise." She was sure she'd be okay. Maybe she'd never seen a body in person, but she'd seen plenty of photographs from the cases she'd helped work on. It really couldn't be all that different.

Jace huffed. "Fine. Whatever. Let's go. But don't say I didn't think this was a bad idea."

* * *

They pulled up to a blue two-story house in suburban neighborhood just on the outskirts of the city. More squad cars were already parked along the sidewalk with uniformed officers milling about. There was also a medical examiners van parked in the driveway. However, Clary's attention was drawn to a older looking couple holding each other as they talked to one of the officers. Their eyes were rimmed red and tear marks streaked their cheeks. The man seemed to keeping the woman from collapsing to the ground.

"Try not to let that get to you," Jace said, following her line of vision. "It's best if you just avoid looking."

She nodded at his advice, but couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from them. They had to be related to the victim, and she couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of grief they were feeling.

Alec and Jace unbuckled their seatbelts and stepped out of the car. Clary stared at the couple for a few more seconds before following behind them. She trailed behind as they flashed their badges to their officer standing in front of the crime scene tape. He nodded and let the three of them through.

Clary clutched her sketchpad to her chest as they entered the house. She could hear more people walking around and talking as Jace and Alec led her upstairs and to a bedroom.

They entered a room with soft pink and white striped walls that were decorated with posters of boybands. There was a twin sized bed in the middle of the room covered with stuffed animals. Clary barely registered any of this as her eyes fell on the body on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The girl looked like she couldn't have been older than twelve. Her shiny blonde hair was matted to her forehead with blood, and her glassy blue eyes seemed to stare directly at Clary.

Clary's hand flew up to her mouth as bile started to rise in her throat. Jonathan had done this. Jonathan had taken the life of this young girl. He really knew no mercy, and he wasn't going to stop until he had everything he wanted.

"Jesus Christ! Nobody told me it was a fucking kid!" she heard Jace yell, but it sounded like he was far away instead of right next to her. "Someone get her out of here."

Clary stood frozen, her eyes glued to those of the dead girl, until someone physically pulled her from the room. The next thing she knew, she was being led outside. Even as the sunlight shown in her face, all she could see was glassy blue eyes staring at her.

A pair of hands opened the passenger door to a cruiser and gently pushed her down into the seat. She could hear Alec's muffled voice telling one of the officers to drive her to his and Jace's apartment and too keep watch outside the door until they got back.

The officer got into the driver's seat, and Clary stared blankly out the windshield as they headed toward the apartment.

* * *

Clary was sitting on the couch, eyes fixed on the television, when Jace and Alec made it home two hours later, Alec carrying a box of pizza in his hands. The news channels had started covering the murder about an hour before, and she hadn't been able to turn it off.

As Alec walked into the kitchen, Jace walked straight over to her, grabbed the remote, and hit the power button. "Why are you watching this?" he asked.

She shrugged, staring at the black screen. "Wanted to know what was going on."

"A twelve year old girl is dead, and it's all that bastard Morgenstern's fault. What else do you need to know?"

"Why did he do it?" she asked. She had been thinking about it, and she couldn't come up with an answer. What the hell did Jonathan want with a little girl?

"Aline apparently used to babysit the girl, Maureen. The Browns were close family friends of the Penhallows. We think Jonathan was sending a message."

Clary nodded, still looking at the screen. Jonathan had done it just to prove a point, to send a message. He didn't have any limits. He had no soul. And this murder just let Clary know that she couldn't walk away from the case. She couldn't let Jonathan keep wreaking havoc. She just had to hope he was either bluffing about her mother, or that they would catch him before he could do anything.

Jace walked into her line of vision and knelt down in front of her. "Hey," he said gently, causing her to make eye contact. "I'm really sorry you had to see that today. If I had known it was a goddamn child, I would have never let you come along."

She bit her lip and looked down at her hands. "It's fine. Just a reality check I guess."

"We brought home some pizza if you want some," he offered.

Clary shook her head. "I'm not really hungry."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm worried about you, Clare. You haven't been sleeping, you barely eat. What's going on?"

"I- I think the case is just really starting to get to me," she said. It wasn't exactly a lie. It was starting to get to her. She didn't understand how Jonathan could be committing such horrible crimes over and over again. That's just not the reason Jace would think of.

"Do you want to take a break from it? I'm sure Luke would be fine with that, especially if it's affecting you like this. I don't think he likes seeing you like this either, Fray."

"No. I'm fine. I promise. I just want to get him off the streets as soon as possible."

The corners of Jace's mouth turned up. "You're so strong, you know that?"

Clary forced herself to thank him, even though her stomach was now in her throat. He didn't know just how wrong he was.

* * *

 **Whoa. Hey. College is crazy. I'm really sorry for the long wait, and I might as well apologize for any future long waits that are most likely going to come. I promise to try harder, but I'm just trying to get back into the swing of fiction writing again.**


	13. Chapter 13

Over a week later, and Clary still wasn't sleeping. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw dead blue ones staring back at her. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to get the image of Maureen out of her mind. She was trying to hide how much it was affecting her, but knew she wasn't doing a good job. Jace was constantly giving her worried looks, and even Izzy, who didn't know what had happened, was leaving her worried texts and voicemails. As much as she avoided talking about how she was feeling, she couldn't hide the physical signs, like the bags growing under her eyes or the obvious weight loss she was going through or the fake smiles she plastered on her face.

At the moment, she was in her bedroom trying to draw to get her mind off everything. It wasn't working, though. Images of Maureen continued to be at the forefront of her mind, and it was showing in her sketches. Despite her best effort, everything she drew was of Maureen. The most recent was of her body, just the way it had been at the crime scene. But Jonathan was looming over her in this sketch. Clary tore out the piece of paper, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it into a growing pile in the corner just as Jace walked in.

He leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. "Artist's block?" he asked, looking at the pile of discarded sketches.

Clary shrugged as she began drawing on a new piece of paper. "I guess you could say that."

"Alec's Just about finished with dinner."

"I'm not hungry," she responded, staying focused on her drawing.

Jace glanced into the hallway before stepping completely inside the room and shutting the door behind him. "Talk to me, Clare. What's going on?"

Clary looked up to find him now standing right next to her bed. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Bullshit," he responded evenly, staring intensely at her. "You aren't sleeping. You hardly eat. You hole yourself up in your room whenever you aren't at the precinct. Plus, I have Izzy all up mine and Alec's asses because you've been ignoring her calls. I know something's wrong. Just please tell me what it is so I can try to help."

She tore her eyes away from his and looked back down at the black lines of her new drawing, "I guess the whole Maureen thing is just really getting to me," she said. "I mean, she was just a kid. How could he do that to her?"

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently placed a hand over one of hers. "The only advice I can give you is to simply try not to focus on it. There's nothing you could have done to stop it. The only thing you can do is work to catch the asshole."

She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the lump in her throat. "But if I had just tried even a little harder before, we could have already caught him and that girl would still be alive and she wouldn't have left a grieving family behind." She had balled her hands into fists. She didn't realize it until that moment, but she really had been blaming herself for the whole thing. She hadn't done enough to make sure Jonathan was behind bars, and other people were paying the price.

Jace hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her head up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Hey, listen to me. You can't think like that. It's not going to help anyone. Just stop focusing on the past and the what-ifs and instead focus on the now. And more importantly, focusing on making yourself better."

"I-I don't know if I can, Jace."

He gave her a soft smile. "And that's okay, Clare. Just promise you'll at least try your best."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Alright," he breathed out, slapping his palms against his thighs. "Let's go eat."

"I just told you I wasn't hungry," she said as he stood up.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You also just told me you promise to try your best."

She let out a sigh. "Fine. I'll come eat with you guys."

His smile widened as he put a hand out to her and she accepted it.

* * *

The next day, she sat in a small café, waiting for Izzy. It was another suggestion from Jace to help her get over Maureen. He said being with friends would help distract her. She also had a feeling he only said it to get Izzy off his ass about her.

She took a drink of her coffee and looked at the clock on the wall. Izzy was 15 minutes late, which was pretty typical. However, Clary had hoped she would be on time at least just this once. She knew Izzy was going to interrogate her, and she really just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. Sitting there and waiting was only making her anxious.

The bell above the door chimed, signaling someone had walked in. Clary looked over and saw that Izzy had finally arrived. Izzy met her gaze and all but ran over, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor.

"Ohmygod, Clary!" she yelled, throwing her arms around her in a hug. "I've missed you so much. Why haven't you been returning my calls or texts? I've been so worried."

Izzy sat down across from her, and Clary pushed the latte she had ordered for her across the table. "I just have a lot going on," she said.

Izzy rolled her eyes as she tentatively took a sip of the drink. "That's the same bullshit excuse my brother gave me. I want the real answer from you, Fray."

Clary wrapped her hands around her cup and stared into the black liquid. "I don't really want to talk about, Iz. It's something that I really want to have to explain right now."

"Clary, I'm your best friend. I'm just really worried about you and I want to help with whatever's going."

"I really appreciate that, Izzy, but I'm already trying to work on it. Jace has been giving me some really good advice."

Izzy's eyebrows shot up. "Jace, the guy you have hated with your entire being since day one, is giving you advice and you're actually listening to it?"

Clary nodded and shrugged. "He just has more experience with this type of situation."

Izzy leaned back in her seat and smirked. "I bet there's a few other situations he has a lot more experience with."

Clary choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. "You're disgusting!" she gasped, but she couldn't the small laugh that escaped with it. She loved how her friend could diffuse tension so easily.

"Come on. Don't tell me you haven't even thought about it."

"Ew! No, Isabelle, I haven't. "

She let out a laugh. "You can't be sharing the same living space as that man and have not thought about it. Hell, even I've thought about it."

Clary wrinkled her nose. "He's practically your brother. That's gross."

"Maybe. But even I can admit he's hot. You'd have to be blind not to. And you'd have to be crazy to not think about what he can do in bed."

Clary felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Her friend noticed immediately and grinned.

"Look at you blushing. I knew it!"

Clary glared at her. "Fine. You're right. I have thought about it. But that doesn't matter because it's never going to happen. Even if the opportunity presented itself, I don't think I could get over his ego and how much of an ass he is."

"I don't buy that."

"What do you mean? There's nothing to buy. That's just the way it is."

"You guys have been getting all buddy-buddy recently. It's only a matter of time." She sat up a little straighter and glanced at her watch. "Speaking of time, I really need to leave right now if I want to make it to my appointment on time."

Clary scoffed. "You're never on time to anything."

"Oh! That reminds me," she started digging through her purse. "I stopped by your apartment on my way here to get your mail so you wouldn't have to make the trip. That's why I was late."

She handed Clary a stack of about twenty envelopes, and Clary thanked her after apologizing for her comment on her lateness. They said their goodbyes, and once Izzy was gone, Clary started sifting through the mail. One envelope made her stop cold. The return address was her childhood home, a house that no longer existed. The sender was a Jon Fray. Her brother was taunting her.

With shaky hands, she tore up the envelope. She pulled out a letter written on a nice piece of parchment paper, and a photo fell out along with it, landing face down on the table. She ignored the photo, and read the letter first:

 _Clarissa,_

 _I warned you to stay way from the case. Maureen was another warning. You will not receive a third. Remember what is at stake and never question the lengths I am willing to go to._

 _Love always,_

 _Jonathan_

She felt bile rise in her throat as she picked up the photograph. It was of Maureen. She was on the floor of her room, screaming at Jonathan probably moments before he took her life away.

Clary quickly gathered all the mail and ran out of the café. She didn't stop until she was safely in her room in Jace's and Alec's apartment. It was there that she finally allowed herself to break down.

* * *

 _She was in Maureen's bedroom, watching as a figure moved in on the screaming girl. She could see the evident fear in her eyes and her screams shook her to her core. She tried to move to intervene, but was glued to the spot. She tried to yell out, but she had no voice._

 _The figure got closer and closer to Maureen, and the panic started to rise in Clary's chest. She had to do something, but couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't move an inch or speak or a word. She was completely useless._

 _As the figure went to make their lethal strike, their identity was revealed. However, it wasn't Jonathan standing there with a malicious smile on his face. It was Clary going for the kill._

She woke up with a start, a scream ripping from her throat. The door to her room flung open, and Jace looked around frantically with his gun drawn.

"What is it? What happened?" he asked, the panic evident in his voice.

"J-Just a bad dream," she responded, sitting up in bed.

Jace's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank god," he sighed as he put his weapon down.

"But Jace, I have to tell you something."

* * *

 **Whoa hey an update. Pls review.**


	14. Chapter 14

Clary sat in Luke's office, her arms awkwardly angled behind her back and a pair of handcuffs irritating the skin on her wrists. Jace was standing on the other side of the room, not looking at her. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and his jaw was clenched.

Their talk had not gone well at all. She had spilled everything to him, from Valentine being her father to Jonathan contacting and threatening her. She had explained what it was like growing up as a Morgenstern and how she and her mother had never agreed with Valentine's ways. Jace had stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. When he had come back in a few minutes later, he was in cop mode. He was stoic and cold, and she found that worse than the anger. He had forced her up and painfully slapped a pair of handcuffs on her wrists, reading her Miranda Rights and claiming she was under arrest for impeding a criminal investigation.

He had dragged her out of the apartment, ignoring Alec's frantic questions as they walked past him. He had also ignored her pleas to just stop and listen to her for a second. On the way to the precinct, he had called Luke, demanding he come and meet them. Clary had forgotten to mention Luke and how he knew about everything, but at that point, she knew he would listen to her anyway.

She thought telling Jace everything would have helped alleviate some of her guilt, but all it did was make her feel worse. She was witnessing how her betrayal was affecting him, and it wasn't good. He was completely closed off now. They were finally starting to have a good relationship, and she ruined it. She wouldn't be surprised if he flat out hated her now.

The door to the office opened, and Luke walked in. He was in slightly disheveled street clothes, and his eyes were slightly red. He glared at Jace as he closed the door behind him, clearly not at all happy to have been awoken and forced to come to work in the middle of the night.

"This better be important," he stated.

"I think Clarissa should explain why we're all here right now," Jace replied, still not looking at her. Clary cringed at the use of her full name. She expected it from Jonathan, but from Jace it just sounded so cold and distant.

Luke looked over at her. "Why the hell is she in cuffs, Wayland?"

"He knows Luke," Clary finally spoke, looking down at her lap. "I told him about Valentine and Jonathan. I couldn't handle the guilt anymore."

Luke cursed softly under his breath. "I really wish you would have given me some warning."

"Wait a second," Jace interrupted. "You _knew_? This whole time you knew about this?"

Luke nodded. "That's why I brought her on the case."

"Really Luke? She could be some kind of criminal! She's probably working with him and tipping him off. I bet she's the mole!"

"But I'm not Jace! I would never do that. You have to just trust me on this."

"I don't trust liars, Clarissa." He finally looked at her. "And you've been lying this whole time. I bet you didn't even tell Luke about your recent interactions with Jonathan."

"Because I was fucking terrified, okay? I didn't do it to be deceptive! I'm scared for my mother and I'm scared for myself. I didn't want Luke taking me off the case."

"Well, you are sure as hell being taken off now. I can barely look at you. There's no way in hell I'm ever working with you again. In my opinion, you should be in jail right now."

"Wayland!" Luke yelled. "Enough! I have known Clary and her mother for years and I have a huge amount of trust placed in them. Clary has been an irreplaceable asset for this investigation. If she didn't tell me about certain interactions, I'm sure she had very good reasons for it. Now, take those goddamn handcuffs off her right now."

Jace huffed and walked over to her. He roughly grabbed her right arm and lifted her off the couch. She flinched at the force of his grip. He turned her around and unlocked the handcuffs. As soon as he took them off, Clary moved her hands in front of her and started rubbing at the red rings around her wrists.

"She got a letter from him," Jace said, pulling out the letter and photo she had shown him earlier from his pocket. "It's her fault that girl died." He handed the letter to Luke. "I'm sure that threat was just to cover up the fact they're working together."

Clary gasped at his statement and felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. Blaming herself was one thing, but having someone else blame her was more painful than she could have imagined. She also couldn't believe he would accuse her of working with him. She couldn't believe he saw Maureen's death as a way to cover it up. "H-How could you say that?" she choked out.

"Because it's true. He went and killed an innocent child, all because of you. He took her life with you as his motivation. That blood is technically on your hands. You might as well have just killed her yourself."

"Jace," Luke said in a warning tone. "Stop." He turned to Clary, who was now trying to stop the tears that were trailing down her face. "Clary, can you please give us a moment?"

"Yeah, of course," she all but whispered. "I'll, uh, be in the break room."

"You better not leave, Clarissa," Jace said. "Just because Luke thinks you're innocent, doesn't mean I can't change his mind."

"Jace!" Luke shouted.

Clary swiftly left the room, her heart in her stomach. Why did Luke want to talk to Jace alone? Was Jace right? Was Luke realizing he had made a mistake by trusting her? Was he now noticing all the damage she had caused? Did he now think she was working with Jonathan, too?

In the break room, she stood gripping the counter with her back to the door. She was trying to focus on her breathing, she but just couldn't manage to get it under control. Tears continued to leak from her eyes, and she felt herself falling apart at the seams. How had she managed to fuck up so badly? How could everything go so wrong so fast?

"Are you alright?" a voice asked from the doorway.

"I'm fine, Raphael," she responded, her voice thick.

"Really? Because it sounds like you've been crying." He was standing closer to her now.

"I'm fine," she repeated through clenched teeth.

"I know someone who can make you feel better." He was now right behind her.

Was he really trying to hit on her right now? "I'm not interested in you, Raphael."

"I was talking about your brother."

Before she could process what he had said, he grabbed her around the waist, and she felt the sting of a needle in her neck.

"What-What are you doing?" she slurred as the room began to spin around her.

"Shhh. Just relax, princesa," he whispered as her vision went black.

* * *

Clary felt like she was floating on a cloud, but as she fully regained consciousness, she realized she was just lying in bed. It had all been a bad dream. She hadn't told Jace everything and Raphael had not drugged her. She sighed happily and rolled over, burrowing deeper into the silk sheets that surrounded her.

Her eyes snapped open and she shot up. She didn't have silk sheets. She looked around the room she was in. None of it looked at all familiar to her. She was in a large, king sized bed bigger than any bed she had been in. The comforter was white and floral, not at all her style. The sheets were a soft pink that matched the canopy hanging above the bed and the drapes on the windows. There was a large white dresser across from her that matched the nightstand to the right of the bed and a large vanity on the left wall. The off-white walls were covered in expensive looking paintings, and an elegant crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room. She had no idea where Raphael had brought her.

She slowly got out of bed, her bare feet landing on plush, cream-colored carpet. The air was chilly and she wrapped her arms around herself. Looking down, she saw she was dressed in a lacey and sheer black nightgown that barely even hit mid-thigh. It was completely different from the oversized t-shirt and shorts she usually slept in.

She quietly padded over to one of the windows on the right wall and pushed the curtain aside. There were thick metal bars on the outside, and through them, she could the sun setting over a lavish garden full of rosebushes and tall hedges. In the middle of the garden stood an extravagant marble fountain. She tried to push the window open, but it wouldn't budge. She couldn't even find a lock anywhere on it.

She turned to the white paneled door next to the dresser and grasped the bronze doorknob. She jiggled it, but the door was locked from the outside. She started to look frantically around the room, trying desperately to find a way to escape, but all the exits were blocked. She tried to find something to break the windows with, but everything heavy was bolted down, from the lamp on the nightstand to the bench in front of the vanity. She didn't know why she bothered with that anyway. Even if she managed to break the glass, she wouldn't be able to get past the bars.

She heard keys jingle in the lock on the door, and she froze, standing at the foot of the bed. The door slowly creaked open, and Jonathan entered with a smile on his face.

"Are you finally done trying to escape, Clarissa?" he asked as he stepped closer to her, the door closing automatically behind him.

"H-How did you-" she started.

"Do you really think I wouldn't have any form of surveillance hidden in here? You are constantly under watch," he said. "You know, you are really quite beautiful when you sleep."

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She moved to get away from his touch, but he quickly placed his hand on the back of her neck, keeping her right where she was. He moved his face closer, his lips stopping centimeters away from hers.

"But I must admit, the fear in your eyes right now makes you infinitely more attractive."

Clary felt her stomach turn as his breath washed over her face. "What do you want?" she whispered.

He pulled away from her and started to pace the room. She now had a chance to really look at him. He was dressed in an impeccable gray suit with a pristine white undershirt and a blood red tie. His blond hair was perfectly neat, not a single hair out of place.

"I want to show you how great life can be. You and Jocelyn turned on Father and everything he worked for, but I want you to know what life on this side can be like." He stopped pacing and now stood in front of her again. "You could have anything your hear desires, Clarissa. Imagine how happy you could be with me." He smiled gently at her.

"There's more to happiness than material objects, Jonathan, and I would never be happy with you," she spat.

His dark eyes hardened and the smile fell from his face. "I wouldn't be so sure, little sister. You and I could run a vast and beautiful empire together. The kind Father had hoped he'd have with that bitch. Just imagine, two Morgensterns back on the throne, just as Father would have wanted. Nothing would be able to stop us. Plus, who do you have besides me? Jace hasn't taken too kindly to your news. It's only a matter of time before he shares it with Alexander and Isabelle. Then they will turn against you, too. And your mother is locked up in some safe house somewhere. You would be all alone if you left me."

"I have Luke," she said, standing her grown.

"Ah, yes. Lucian. I wouldn't be so sure about that either, though. Jace is probably planting seeds of doubt in his mind as we speak, And with you just disappearing after Jace's accusations, who knows what Luke's thinking. It looks like you were finally caught in a web of lies and ran away to hide with you brother, who you've been secretly in cahoots with the whole time."

How do you know any of that?"

"I have eyes and ears all over that precinct, Clarissa. The rumors are already circulating. If you went back, you'd be completely ostracized, probably even arrested. Do you really think you could handle that?"

Clary stared at him. She couldn't handle that. She couldn't go back knowing everyone hated her. She couldn't go back knowing she would be arrested and thrown in jail. This is why she didn't want to tell anybody. But the guilt had been so consuming, and she had slowly started to lose her mind because of it. Now, she was all alone. She was stuck in this house with Jonathan, and nobody was going to be looking to save her.

"That's what I though," Jonathan said in response to her silence. "But you'll be all right. You have me, after all." He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug.

She stood there stiffly, not having any of idea of what her next move would be.

* * *

 **Thanks for all the wonderful reviews on the last chapter!**


	15. Chapter 15

Screams echoed off of the stone walls, and Clary squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the scene in front of her. Jonathan had brought her into his basement-turned-torture-chamber to teach her "the family business." He was trying to get information about a drug shipment from a competitor, and he wanted to show her how to persuade people into sharing. This was the third time he had brought her down here, and each time seemed to be worse than the last.

Currently, there was a light haired boy tied to a wooden chair in the middle of the room. He looked barely over 18, and Clary had feeling he was just a kid who got hung up in the wrong stuff. His blue eyes were blood shot and tears ran freely down his bruised and cut cheeks. Clary heard the sound of Raphael's brass knuckles connecting with bone, and she flinched. Another blood curdling scream rang out through the room.

"Clarissa," Jonathan said, his demanding voice causing her to open her eyes. He was staring at her, malice swimming in his dark eyes and a small smile playing on his lips. In his hand was some sort of blade. He pushed the handle in her direction. "We're about to start removing fingers, and it's time you joined in."

Clary stared back at him, her eyes wide. "What? No way in hell."

The smile fell from his face and his jaw clenched. "Clarissa, you are a Morgenstern. Now take this knife and act like it."

She shook her head. "No. I don't want to do that."

He let out a growl. "Goddammit, Clarissa! If you're not going to do it willingly, then I am going to have to force you."

Before she could react, he grabbed her right hand and shoved the handle into it. He then wrapped his hand around hers, forcing her to hold on to it. He started to pull her toward the boy in the chair, and she tried to break free. He tightened his grip on her and continued to drag her along.

They stopped in front of the boy, who looked up at them through swollen eyes. Jonathan pulled her knife-wielding hand forward, holding it just over the boy's right index finger.

"I'm going to give you one more chance. Where is the shipment coming in at?" Jonathan asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I don't know! I told you I don't know!" the boy cried out, his voice shaking.

Jonathan tsked. "Not the answer I wanted."

He pushed Clary's hand down, and vile rose in her throat as she felt the resistance of skin, muscle, and bone. The boy screamed and Clary felt tears gather in her own eyes. She looked at the finger that now lay on the cement floor and had to swallow the vomit that was now at the back of her mouth. She had just hurt an innocent boy. She had just literally cut somebody's finger off. She didn't even know that was something that happened in real life and not just in bad mafia movies.

Jonathan let go of her hand and smiled at her. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

The hint of pride in is voice caused anger to course through her. He had made her do that. He had made her hurt someone. She had sworn she would never hurt another human being. She had sworn she wouldn't end up like her father. He had ruined that for her, and he was _proud_ of it.

Clary glanced at the bloodied knife that was still in her hand. Without a second thought, she lunged at Jonathan. He tried to move out of the way, but she still managed to sink the blade into his upper left arm. He cried out, a string of expletives pouring from his mouth as he stared in disbelief at the knife protruding from his arm.

"Do something!" he shouted frantically to Raphael.

Clary felt the familiar sting of a needle, and the world around her began to swirl.

* * *

A splash of freezing cold water on her face pulled her into consciousness. Her eyes flew open to reveal Jonathan standing in front of her, a terrifying grin on his face. "Rise and shine, little sister," he sang.

Clary realized she was still in the basement. However, this time, she was the one in the chair. Her wrists were ziptied to the wooden arms and her ankles were ziptied to the legs. Panic started to bubble inside of her.

"I've got to admit, Clarissa, you sure do have some moxie." He was now pacing slowly in front of her, twirling a knife between his fingers. The same knife she had stabbed him with. "Too bad you have yet to learn to use it properly. I can help you, though. You've been fighting against your destiny. You're a Morgenstern. You need to finally admit it."

"I am not a Morgenstern," she hissed. "I am a Fray. I refuse to share a name with you and that dickhead you call a father."

His hand cracked across her face and head was tossed to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. "I already have very little patience for you, Clarissa. I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you say you're a Morgenstern."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Never," she stated, spitting the blood in her mouth at Jonathan's feet. She didn't want anything to with that last name. That name had ruined so much for her. It had dictated her life. She constantly lived in fear of someone finding out her secret. She apparently had good reason to. Just look at what had happened when people found out. Sebastian had reacted in a physically violent way and Jace began to hate her. She might have been born with that last name, but she would never call herself a Morgenstern willingly.

Jonathan moved quickly, plunging the blade of the knife into Clary's right thigh. He leaned his face in, stopping just centimeters from hers, his hand still wrapped around the handle of the knife. "Wrong. Answer."

She stared at the knife in her leg. "You're fucking crazy!" she yelled as the pain suddenly started to hit her.

Jonathan let out a dark laugh. "I might be crazy, but I'm all you have left. Raphael's been doing a great job at relaying information from the precinct to me. They all think you turned on them. They're looking for you, Clarissa, and it 's not to save you. You and I are on the same side now."

"I will never be on the same side as you," she forced out between gritted teeth.

Jonathan pushed the knife in deeper, stopping only when the hilt hit her thigh. His smile grew as she screamed out in pain. Her vision started to blacken around the edges.

"I'm giving you one more chance, Clarissa. Say it."

She took a deep breath and stared him straight in the eyes. "Fuck you, Jonathan. You can go to hell. Say hi to father dearest for me while you're there."

His eyes hardened, and his smile turned into a sneer. "I am going to break you one day, dear sister. Just wait."

He tightened his grip on the knife and twisted the blade in her leg. Clary's scream died on her lips as everything went black.

* * *

When she felt herself approaching consciousness, Clary did everything to try to stop it. She was afraid of what she would find once she woke up. She didn't want to still be tied up in the basement, left to Jonathan and his twisted means of persuasion.

As she became fully conscious, she felt a little less scared. She could tell she wasn't still tied to that wooden chair. She felt like she was in a bed, but not one as comfortable as the one she had been sleeping in ever since Raphael had delivered her to her brother.

She slowly opened her eyes. Her guess had been right; she was in a bed. But she was in a room completely different from the one she had woken up in that first day. This room was smaller. A lot smaller. It was also bare. The only thing in it was the twin sized bed she was currently on. Everything around her was white. The walls. The carpet, The bedding. The nightgown she was dressed in. There wasn't even a single window in the room.

Her eyes landed on the door in the far corner. She threw the blankets off, and moved to get up. The second she stood, she fell to the floor, an excruciating pain shooting through her right leg. She looked at the spot where Jonathan had stabbed her, pleasantly surprised to see that someone had at least bandaged her wound.

She rolled onto her stomach and began to army crawl to the door, trying her best to keep her wounded thigh from touching the carpet. It was a difficult and impossible task, but it hurt less than it did when she had tried to stand.

When she finally reached the door, she stretched to try the handle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked. She let out a frustrated groan before getting herself into a sitting position against the door.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jonathan?" she asked out loud.

She was startled to hear Jonathan's voice fill the room through some invisible intercom system. "I told you I was going to break you, Clarissa." He laughed for a few seconds before the room was returned to silence.


	16. Chapter 16

Clary sat across from Jonathan at the grand dining table. His dark eyes were scrutinizing her appearance, making sure she looked just how he had requested. She was wearing the light blue sundress and heels that had been delivered to her room by one of Jonathan's maids. Her hair fell past her shoulders in soft curls, and she only had on enough make up to cover the fading bruises on her face. It was the way Jonathan preferred for her to look.

Jonathan smiled at her, seemingly pleased with her. "Thank you for joining me for dinner, Clarissa," he said.

She smiled back at him. "Of course, Jonathan. I would never miss the chance to dine with you."

It had been about a month since the basement incident. Jonathan had promised he would break her, and she had let him believe he had succeeded. It had been a long con, but Clary had done it. She had gradually stopped defying him, making him think she was finally "coming to her senses." The truth was, she was no closer to being on his side than she had been before. It was all about survival for her now.

For the first few days in the White Room, Jonathan had refused to feed her until she admitted she was a Morgenstern. She had refused to at first, but then quickly realized her defiance was getting her nowhere. Once she had finally given in, Jonathan had given her food. He continued to give her little tests like that, and each time she did what he wanted, she gained more privileges. A week ago, she had finally been put back in her original room. When she failed his tests, he punished her physically, which is where all the bruises came from. She hadn't failed his tests in a while, and most of the bruises were gone now. She had been doing so well that Jonathan promised her free reign of the mansion soon.

The hardest thing she had done so far was participate in Jonathan's interrogations in the basement. She hadn't severely hurt anyone yet. She was mainly tasked with doing the actual questioning. It was still hard to look into a stranger's face as they cried out in pain. She could barely handle it, but her own survival and freedom were on the line. She knew it was selfish, but she was so focused on getting out somehow. If she could escape, she could find Luke and tell him where Jonathan was hiding out.

Jonathan continued to tell her that Luke was out to get her now, but she didn't believe that. She believed that Jace wanted her in cuffs and behind bars, but she knew Luke wasn't like that. Luke knew her better than anybody else, and he would never think she had willingly gone with Jonathan.

She was careful to make sure Jonathan didn't know this, though. She had told him on multiple occasions that her change of heart had come from the realization that, as her brother, he was all she had left now. This had made him extremely happy, and, more importantly, had made him trust her a little more. He wasn't going to trust her solely on her word, though. Now, she had to act like he was all that she had left and prove her allegiance to him. It all was going to start with that night's dinner.

"You look lovely tonight," Jonathan said as a maid set bowls of soup in front of them.

"Thank you," she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked down at the silverware in front of her, unsure of which spoon to use.

Jonathan let out a sigh. "The soup spoon is the big one on the right."

Clary bit her lip and looked up at him. "Thanks. I'm just not used to this much cutlery."

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Jocelyn really did fail you, Clarissa. You are a Morgenstern and deserve the finer things in life, such as fine dining."

"She rejected the Morgenstern name and brainwashed me into denying my true identity, brother. Did you really expect anything different?" she asked as she picked up the proper spoon.

He chuckled under his breath. "I am so glad you have finally come to accept who you are, dear sister. We are destined to do great things together."

"I can't wait to see what we accomplish."

* * *

As they were finishing dessert, Raphael suddenly entered the dining room. He walked briskly over to Jonathan and whispered something into his ear. Jonathan's lips curved upward at whatever was being shared with him. He grabbed his wine glass and downed the liquid that remained in it.

"Let everyone else to know to head out, " he said to Raphael.

Raphael nodded. "Yes, boss." He pulled out his phone and stepped into a corner of the room.

Jonathan wiped the edges of his mouth with a napkin and stood up. "How would you like to go for a trip, little sister?"

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"We finally got information of that kid. He told us exactly when and where their next shipment is coming in, and we have just enough time to make it. I would like it for you to join us."

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Sh-Should I go change?"

He shook his head. "Not enough time. Follow me."

She also quickly downed the rest of her wine and stood from the table. She caught up to Jonathan with Raphael trailing her. She had a feeling he was making sure she wouldn't run off.

Jonathan lead her down multiple hallways before going through a door that lead to a garage. A large black SUV was parked in the garage, and he walked to the back door, opening the door for her. She climbed onto the cold leather seats and buckled her self in. Jonathan put himself in the passenger seat, and Raphael took the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" Clary asked as Raphael started down the long, winding driveway.

Jonathan turned around and looked at her. "Don't worry about it, Clarissa. Just enjoy the ride."

Once he turned back around, she narrowed her eyes at the back of his seat. Why did he not want to tell her where they were going. She felt like she had a right to know. Plus, who would she even tell? She didn't have any access to the outside world. Ever since getting kidnapped, her only social interactions had been with Jonathan, Raphael, and their prisoners.

She leaned back in her seat and looked out the window. Between the tinted windows and the dark night, she had no idea where she was or where they were going. She would just have to wait to find out.

* * *

A hand gently shaking her and a voice calling her name roused her form sleep. She opened her eyes and saw Jonathan looking at her. She hadn't even known she had fallen asleep.

"We're here," Jonathan said. "Raphael and some of our guys are setting up a perimeter. All we have to do is wait for the shipment to come in."

Clary nodded and looked out the windshield. It was still dark outside, but there were dim streetlights that helped reveal their location. They were in some kind of shipping yard off the ocean. Clary could see stacks of metal shipping crates and she could smell the salty seawater wafting through the vents.

Gunshots suddenly rang out through the air and Jonathan cursed under his breath. He pulled a pistol out from the glove box and quickly loaded it before pulling a radio out of the center console.

"What's going on?" he asked, waiting for a response to come through the static.

"It's not good, boss," Raphael's voice said through the speaker. "They knew we were coming. We need help." The sound of more gunshots came through the radio.

Jonathan let out another stream of expletives. He turned around and stared Clary in the eyes. "Wait here," he ordered.

She swallowed and nodded. "O-Okay."

Jonathan got out of the car and started running to the other side of the shipping yard. Clary waited until he was far enough away to open her own door, and she took off in the opposite direction. The heels on her feet were making it difficult to run, so she quickly kicked them off, deciding to carry on barefooted.

She ran across the asphalt before coming to a tall chain link fence. Behind the fence was a heavily wooded area. She looked to her left and right, seeing the fence continue on in both directions. Not knowing how long she had to get out, she decided to climb it. The metal bit into her feet, but she ignored it. She was too focused on escaping.

When she reached the top, she hooked her right leg over to the other side and straddled the fence. She was trying to figure out the best way to continue, when she heard her name being called in the distance. She quickly threw her other leg over and went to climb down, but her dress got caught on the top. When she tried to pull it free, she lost her balance and fell, the dress ripping.

Clary landed on a patch of packed dirt and the breath was knocked out of her. She wanted to just lie there and recover, but she heard her voice being called again. Jonathan was closer now. She clambered to her feet and took off into the woods. She felt rocks cut at her bare feet and branches scratch her exposed arms and legs, but she kept running. This was her only chance to escape, and she had to take it.

She didn't know how long she had ran for, but she finally saw a break in the trees. Running toward it, she almost cried tears of relief when she found a paved road. The road had to lead somewhere, and she followed it in what she hoped was the opposite direction of the shipping yard. She stayed close to the woods, though, and ducked behind trees every time she heard a car coming. She didn't know what kind of car Jonathan's goons were driving and didn't want any of them to spot her.

She followed the road until the sun starting to rise on the horizon, which surprised her. It felt like she had been on the move for a while, but there was no way it had been that long. They had left Jonathan's house around eight, and sunrise was around five. How could they have possible been gone for nine hours already?

Her legs felt like giving out, and she was absolutely exhausted. She needed to find help. If she didn't, her body was either going to give up or Jonathan was going to be able to find her in broad daylight. She was about to give up and just sit on the side of the road when she saw the trees on the other side of the road stop and give away to farmland. Not too far away, she saw a small farmhouse, and for the first time in over a month, hope fluttered in her stomach.

She forced herself to sprint the short distance to the house. She ran across the road, hopped over a short wooden fence, and forced her legs to carry her through the grassy field to the house. She clambered up a small set of rickety wooden stairs and frantically knocked on the front door of the house.

An older woman opened the door, looking slightly alarmed. Her graying hair was pulled up into a bun, and her soft blue eyes were wide. "Oh, dear," she murmured.

"You've got to help me!" Clary cried out. "Th-There's someone after and I-I need to get back home." She knew she must have looked crazy with her torn dress and bloodied feet.

The woman looked around Clary, probably making sure this wasn't some ploy and that there wasn't an intruder waiting to attack. "Come on in, dear," she said, stepping inside the house and opening in the door wider for Clary.

Clary felt hot tears leak from her eyes as she profusely thanked the kind stranger. The woman led her to a couch and told her to sit down before grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. Clary hadn't even realized she was shivering.

The woman sat down in an armchair across from her. "What's your name?"

"Cl-Clary."

She smiled kindly at her. "Well, Clary, I'm Imogen. Do you want me to call the police?"

"No!" Clary yelled out. Imogen looked startled, and she decided to elaborate. "H-He has a lot of hold on all the cops in New York."

Imogen's brow furrowed. "New York? Honey, you're a long way from home. This is Portland, Maine."

Clary dropped her head into her hands. "Oh, God."

"Is there anyone you want to call, sweetie?"

Clary nodded. "Please."

Imogen got up and walked off somewhere in the house. She came back a few moments later with a landline phone in her hand and gave it to Clary. Clary thanked her and immediately dialed a familiar number. Her stomach was in knots as the line rang.

"Chief Garroway," Luke answered. Clary started sobbing at the sound of his gruff voice.

"L-Luke, it's Clary," she cried into the phone.

She heard him shuffle around followed by the sound of a door closing. "Where are you?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm somewhere in Maine. Jonathan was intercepting someone's drug shipment and then gunshots starting going off and he left me alone in the car and I just ran for it and I found this farmhouse and this woman named Imogen let me in and now I'm calling you."

"Clary, slow down. I barely caught a word of that. Did you say Maine?"

"Yeah, Portland. I don't know the address, though."

"That's fine, Clare. I can trace this phone number. Just stay where you are, and I'll come get you. I'll be there as soon as I possibly can, I promise."


	17. Chapter 17

Clary lied on Imogen's couch, a blanket tightly wrapped around her body. She was supposed to be sleeping, and even though she was completely exhausted, she couldn't manage to fall asleep. Imogen had made her a cup of tea and given her a few painkillers, which should have made her sleepy. Yet, she lay there completely awake. She could hear Imogen rummaging around the house, and every time she entered the living room, Clary pretended to be sleeping. The old woman had been fretting over her all morning. She had offered to run her a bath, saying it might make her feel better to get cleaned up, but Clary had politely declined, claiming she didn't have the energy to bathe. Imogen had then offered Clary her bed, but Clary said she was fine on the couch and that she didn't want to dirty her sheets. Imogen had also offered to make Clary something to eat, but she had said she wasn't hungry at all. She didn't want to worry Imogen more by not sleeping.

She blamed part of her restlessness on the anxiety of facing Luke and everyone again. She knew Luke would be glad to see her, but she didn't want his pity. She didn't want him to feel bad for her. As for Jace, she had no idea what to expect. He had seemed so full of hate the last time she had seen him. With everyone Raphael had reported to Jonathan, she wondered if Jace actually did think she was on Jonathan's side. What was he going to do when he saw her? Was he going to try to arrest her again? Was he going to say anything to her? Was he even going to look in her direction?

And what about everyone else? How was Izzy going to react to the fact that Clary had kept such a huge secret from her? The word must have spread by now. Izzy would have received the news as second hand information. She would feel so betrayed that Clary hadn't told her herself. The idea of Izzy hating her caused another wave of anxiety to roll through her.

There was a knock on Imogen's door, and Clary stiffened. Fear started to course through her veins as her brain automatically went to Jonathan. It had only been around four hours since she called Luke. New York was at least five away. Had he gotten to her before Luke could?

Imogen entered the living room again, looking just as concerned as Clary felt. Clary noticed the glint of a kitchen knife in Imogen's hand as Imogen signaled for her to remain quiet. She watched silently while Imogen carefully opened the front door and greeted whoever was standing on her porch.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. I'm looking for Clary?" a familiar voice said.

"Luke!" Clary yelled as she threw herself of the couch. She sprinted over to the door and burst into tears as her eyes met Luke's kind blue ones.

"Oh, Clary," he choked out, his own eyes watering up as he carefully wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so glad you're safe."

Clary tightened her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down her back in an attempt to comfort her. Once she had calmed down a little, he pulled away from her. It was then that she saw the car parked in front of Imogen's house. It was Jace's, and he was leaning on the hood, staring at his feet.

"What is he doing here?" Clary asked. She was shocked by how even her own voice was.

Luke followed her line of sight. "Jace? He demanded he come along. In fact, he insisted on driving. Might have broken a few traffic laws, but we did get here as fast as possible."

Clary nodded. She wondered why Jace had wanted to join Luke. Was he there to make sure she didn't run off? Was he driving so he could make sure he could take her to the precinct after?

"Why don't you go wait with him while I go talk to Imogen for a moment," Luke said, interrupting her train of thought.

That was when Clary realized Imogen was no longer standing at the door. She must have walked off in order to give Luke and Clary some privacy. "Okay." She started down the porch steps and paused. "Will you thank her for me?"

He smiled gently at her. "Of course."

Clary bit her lip and continued down the porch steps. She took her time approaching Jace. He didn't look up from his feet until she was less than a foot away from him. He looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face was covered in stubble, and his hair was more unruly than usual. His face fell at the sight of her.

"Oh, Clare. What did he do to you?" he spoke softly, reaching a hand out toward her.

She moved out of his reach and shook her head. "Don't."

He frowned and let his hand fall limply to his side. "Listen, Clary, I am so s-"

"Jace," she interrupted, "not now."

"Oh, okay." He awkwardly cleared his throat. "There's a blanket and stuff in the back seat. Make yourself comfortable and we'll head out as soon as Luke is done."

"Thanks," she mumbled as she stepped toward the back door and climbed into the car. There was a blanket and pillow in the middle seat, bust she ignored them as she buckled herself in. She had a feeling she still wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

Jace got into the driver's seat. He kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror as they waited for Luke, but she avoided his gaze. She didn't want to be around him right now. The anxiety and fear of what he was going to do had left her. He obviously didn't believe she was in cahoots with Jonathan. However, now she just felt anger toward him. He had treated her so poorly when he found out about her secret, and she hadn't forgiven him for that. She had spent the past month worried that he was still against her, that he wouldn't believe her innocence. She shouldn't have needed to feel that way. A true friend, or whatever he was, wouldn't have placed that doubt in her mind. He wouldn't have made it so easy for her to believe Raphael and Jonathan's lies.

Finally, Luke came back. He buckled himself in and told Jace about how he got a statement from Imogen about what had happened. He then told Clary that, once she was feeling up to it, they were going to need to bring her into the precinct and have her tell them everything that had happened. Clary offered to tell them right then and there, but Luke said she needed her rest. His number one concern at that moment was her health and safety.

"Maybe we should take her to a hospital real quick," Jace said as he started the long drive back to New York.

Clary shook her head, but then realized Jace and Luke were looking ahead of them and wouldn't see it. "No," she said. "I just want to go home. Please."

"Okay." Jace glanced in the rearview mirror at her. "I'll call Alec and let him know we're on the way. He can make sure everything is in order for you."

"No," she said again. "I want to go to _my_ home. My own apartment."

It was Luke who responded this time. He turned around in his seat to look at her. "Clary, I don't think that's such a good idea with Morgenstern still on the loose."

She looked him in the eye. "Luke, I really appreciate your concern, but I know my brother. He's not going to try the same trick twice. Plus, I can't keep being afraid of him. All I want right now is to be in my own space. You can set up a patrol car outside of my building if it will make you feel better."

He let out a sigh. "Alright. But instead of a patrol car there will actually be officers walking around the building, deal?"

"If that's what it takes for me to be in my own home, then deal."

* * *

A little less than five hours later, Jace pulled in front of her apartment building. Luke offered to walk her inside, but she declined. He had already called ahead and had officers do a sweep of the building. Everything seemed to be all right, and she didn't feel the need to be escorted inside.

Luke did get off the car at the same time she did, though. He hugged her tightly again, telling her thankful he was that she got away safely. When he finally released her, he glanced back at the car for a second.

"Try to take it easy on him, Clary," he said before kissing her on the top of the head and walking back to the car.

Clary waited for him to get in before heading inside. She stopped at the front desk to get an extra key to her apartment. The man behind the desk looked slightly alarmed, and it took her a second to remember her current state. She was still in the torn dress with bloodied feet and scratches all over her arms and legs. But she couldn't find it in herself to care at the moment.

She quickly took the key from the man and chose to go up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. At the moment, she didn't have the patience to wait for it. She bounded up the steps to her floor and half ran down the hall to her apartment. As soon as she opened her door, she sighed in relief. It was just as she had left it, and the familiarity of everything made her heart swell. She was finally home. In her own home. She wasn't in some spare room. She wasn't constantly being watched by someone. She was finally physically alone, which she grateful for. The emotional loneliness she felt was a different story, though.

She shook off that feeling and made her way into her room. She pulled the dress off her body and threw it into a random corner, planning to throw it in the trash later. She carefully took off her underclothes and threw them in the same corner before stepping toward her closet. She pulled out a fresh, clean towel and headed to the en suite.

Turning the water in the shower up to the highest setting, she waited for the bathroom to steam up before stepping under the stream of water. She took her time showering, despite the way the water stung at her wounds. She wanted to make sure she washed off all the dirt, grime, and blood. When she was satisfied with her level of cleanliness, she stepped out and wrapped the towel around her body.

It was at that moment that she heard a knock at her door. She silently walked toward the door, stopping in the kitchen to grab a knife just in case. Without making a sound, she approached to door and looked through the peephole. She was relieved to see Jace standing on the other side. However, that relief was quickly replaced with confusion and annoyance.

She undid the chain and unlocked the door before opening it just enough to make herself visible.

"What are you doing here, Jace?" she asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"You told me not now in Maine, and I've waited. But I really need to talk to you, Clary. Please, I'm begging you."

There was something in his expression that made her own soften. He seemed so desperate, even a little sad. "Fine," she sighed, as she opened the door wider for him.

He stared at her for a moment, not moving. Clary realized that she was still in just a towel and groaned internally.

"Just take a seat on the couch while I go change," she said before turning around and heading back to her room. She quickly threw on a pair of sleeping shorts and a tank top and piled her hair up into a bun on top of her head. When she entered the living room again, Jace was sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead at the wall. She stopped in front of him, crossing her arms. "Say whatever you came all the way here to say."

He ran a hand through his already messy golden curls and closed his eyes as he bit his lip. "Clary, I am so fucking sorry, okay?" He opened his eyes and Clary could see the sadness and regret swimming in their gold depths. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I was just so surprised and, and hurt. I couldn't understand why you didn't feel like you could trust me with that information. And that made me mad and I took it out on you when I shouldn't have. Then, the whole abduction thing happened, and Clary? I was so afraid I was never going to see you again, and I honestly blamed myself. I've been worried sick for these past weeks thinking I was never going to find you. That you were gone for good. That Jonathan had done something terrible to you. That made me realize something, Clary. It made me realize that I don't want to lose you and that I want you in my life."

When he was finished with his speech, he stood up. Before Clary knew what was happening, he placed on hand on her waist and the other on the back of her neck. Her heart rate picked up as she stared into his eyes as he silently asked permission. She gave him a tiny nod, and he smiled before capturing her lips with his.

All the anger she had felt melted away as his lips moved against hers. She was still processing everything he had said, but she got the gist of it. He had been angry and hurt. And honestly, Clary knew he had had every right to be. She had lied to him for so long. Sure, he had reacted horribly, but he was apologizing now, and he seemed so sincere.

She stopped focusing on her words, and focused on kissing him instead. She had waited so long for this, and she was going to enjoy while she could. The hand that had been on her waist slipped under her shirt and started to wander up her back. He paused when he reached her upper back and pulled away.

"No bra?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Her cheeks went red, and she stepped away from him. "I was in a rush to get dressed."

He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah. I probably shouldn't have stopped by so unexpectedly."

She smiled at him. "I'm glad you did. And thanks for apologizing. But, I also need to apologize. I shouldn't have kept something that big from you. I was just so afraid of how you would react, and that stopped me from telling you for so long. But that was really wrong of me. I understand why you reacted the way you did, even though it sucked."

He let out a chuckle. "As eloquent as ever, Fray."

"Hey! I'm really tired, give me a break."

His smile fell and he gently cupped her face with his hand, running his thumb over her cheekbone. "When was the last time you slept?"

She shrugged, looking down. "Before I escaped, and not very well."

He removed his hand and shoved it into his pocket. "I should go. You need to sleep."

"You- You could stay for a little longer if you wanted," she offered, her cheeks heating up again.

"I would love to, but with that kiss and my adrenaline levels right now added with the fact you aren't wearing a bra, I really should go before we cross a line that should not be crossed tonight."

She nodded. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I'll walk you out."

They took their time walking to the door, and Jace stopped in the doorway for a moment and looked at her. "I cannot express how happy I am that you're home and safe, Clare," he said before pressing his lips to hers for a brief moment. "I'm also really disappointed that you aren't staying with me."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I just need some time to myself, Jace. I need to be alone and sort through everything going on in my head right now. I need to be surrounded by familiarity for a little bit. It's nothing personal." The last part was partially a lie. When she had demanded to be taken to her own apartment, part of the reason was that she didn't want to stay with Jace. That had obviously changed, but she still wanted to be on her own for now.

"I understand. Goodnight, Fray."

"Night," she said as he turned and started down the hall. She closed the door and locked it. Then she double-checked all the locks on the windows before heading to bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out.


	18. Chapter 18

Clary buried her face into her pillow, trying to block out the incessant knocking that had woken her up. She hoped that if she ignored it, whoever was at the door would eventually go away. When the knocking still hadn't stopped a few minutes later, she groaned and forced herself out of the comfort of her bed. She winced at the soreness in her muscles as she moved and head to the front door.

"What," she said as she threw open the door. She was surprised to see Magnus standing there in street clothes. It was different from his typical medical examiner get up of a white coat and dress clothes. A pair of black leather pants clung to his legs and the fluorescent hall lights reflected off specks of glitter on his satin purple button up shirt. He was holding a leather bag in his right hand.

"Hello to you, too," Magnus replied, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

"Uh, what are you doing here?" she asked, opening her door wider and gesturing for him to enter her apartment.

"Fulfilling a favor for a friend," he answered as he walked in.

She shut the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest. "A favor?"

He nodded. "Jace asked me to stop by and check on you. Said you got roughed up pretty bad."

"I'm fine. I don't need anybody giving me a check up. Besides, do you even know how to check on something that isn't a corpse?"

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Even if you think you're fine, I still need to look over you. Jace will kick my ass if I don't. Now sit." He pointed to her couch, and she took a seat. He sat on the coffee table in front of it, setting his bag next to him. "How are you feeling?" he asked as he pulled a small light out of his bag.

She shrugged. "Fine. Just a little tired and sore."

He shined the light in directly into her eyes and she fought the urge to blink. "Sore?" he asked, shutting the light off and rummaging through his bag again.

"Yeah. Just normal muscle soreness. Probably from all the running."

He nodded, pulling out a little wooden tongue depressor. "Open," he instructed, and Clary opened her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the taste of the wood. "Any other pain? Headaches?"

She shook her head as he inspected her mouth. Pulling the depressor out, he went to put away and paused.

"What's that?" he questioned, pointing to the fresh looking scar on her thigh.

"It's nothing," she responded, quickly pulling down the hem of her sleep shorts.

"Clary, that doesn't look like nothing. What did he do to you?"

Closing her eyes, she let out sigh. "I really don't want to talk about it, Magnus. He had a doctor take of care it, and I'm fine."

Frowning, he closed his bag. "Okay. Well, physically, you appear to be all right. However, I highly recommend finding someone to talk to. A professional."

"I appreciate your concern, Magnus, but I'm fine. Really. I just want to forget the whole thing ever happened."

He exhaled loudly as he stood up. "If that changes, let me know. I have a few resources I can give you."

"Thanks," she said, leading him to the door.

"I'm going to let Jace know that you're okay, but don't be surprised if he calls you anyway."

"I don't understand why he's so worried."

Magnus looked her straight in the eyes. "Clary, you were _abducted_. Jace was a complete mess while you were gone. He cares about you. _That's_ why he's worried."

Biting her lip, Clary looked down at her feet. "I guess I'm just not used to all the attention, you know? Especially from him. I'm used to mostly being on my own, with only my mom looking out for me. This is all really new to me."

Magnus smirked at him. "You better get used to it, cupcake. That boy has fallen head over heels for you, and I don't see him stopping this behavior anytime soon." He opened the door. "Anyway, I'll see around," he said before leaving.

Clary stared at the door after he left. Her heart had fluttered at what he said about Jace. How much did he really care about her? She had begun to think that he just felt bad about how he had acted, but maybe Magnus was right. Maybe Jace actually did have these feelings for her. The question now was, did she have the same feelings for him?

Her stomach growling loudly interrupted her train of thought. A groan escaped her as she immediately realized she wouldn't have any food around her apartment since she hadn't been living there for a while. She quickly went into her room and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. She grabbed some cash from the emergency stash she kept in her bedside drawer and left her apartment, locking the door behind her. She had her heart set on a small café down the street.

As she exited the apartment building, she ignored the patrol car that was in the parking lot. She felt like it was completely unnecessary. She knew Jonathan. He wasn't going to try something again so soon. He liked to plan things out meticulously, and he wasn't going to act out impulsively.

The bell above the café door chimed as she entered, and she smiled to herself as the smell of coffee and pastries wafted around her. She was about to step in line when she heard a familiar voice call her name. She stopped midstep as anxiety bubbled inside her. Turning toward the voice, her eyes met a pair of dark brown ones.

"Hi, Izzy," she said, awkwardly running her left hand up and down her right upper arm.

"Hi, Izzy?" the raven-haired woman almost shouted as she approached Clary. "I find out you were keeping a huge secret from me and then you get kidnapped and I don't see you for two months only to run into you at a coffee shop and all you have to say is "hi Izzy?'" Her voice progressively got louder throughout her rant.

Clary glanced around the café and noticed the majority of the patrons were now staring at them. "Izzy," she whispered, "you are drawing a lot of attention right now."

"I don't care!" she shouted, throwing her hands in the air. "What the hell happened, Clary?"

"I will tell you, _if_ you agree to sit down and be quiet," Clary said.

Izzy nodded curtly. "I'll be over there," she said, pointing to a secluded table in the corner.

Clary joined the line, and less than ten minutes later she was sitting across the table from her best friend. She stared at her cup as she stirred some sugar into her black coffee.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"When did you get back?" Izzy questioned. She seemed to have calmed down significantly.

"Yesterday." She tentatively took a sip of her drink, making sure it was to her liking.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Clary thought she sensed a hint of hurt in Izzy's voice. "I didn't have the time. I got back, passed out, got woken this morning by Magnus, and came here."

Izzy nodded, but she didn't say anything. Clary watched as she crossed her arms over chest and stared out the window, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

"Do you hate me?" Clary asked, breaking the silence.

Izzy quickly turned her head to look at her. "What? Why would I hate you?"

"I-I've lied to you this entire time."

"Oh, Clary," Izzy sighed, reaching across the table and placing a hand on top of hers. "I could never hate you. I understand why you lied. If my father was a psycho murderer, I'd probably keep it a secret, too."

"What about all the yelling that just happened?"

She shrugged. "I was surprised to see you. And honestly, I've been super stressed recently. I was really worried about you. I guess I just kinda took that stress out on you. But I'm really glad you're back and that you're okay." She paused for a second. "You _are_ okay, right?"

Clary smiled. "Yeah, Iz. I'm okay."

* * *

After catching up with Izzy for around an hour, Clary walked back into her apartment. She couldn't even begin to describe the relief she felt after talking with her best friend. Izzy had been completely understanding and sympathetic toward Clary's situation, and she was extremely grateful to still have her by her side.

Clary had just locked her door when the landline in the apartment rang. She half ran to the kitchen where the phone was, picking it up just in time.

"Hello?" she answered, slightly out of breath.

"Hey, Fray," Jace greeted. "Where'd ya go?"

She narrowed her eyes, even though he couldn't see. "What? Are you keeping tabs on me through the patrol unit?"

"I just want to know you're safe, Clary," he said, any joking tone gone from his voice. "Plus, I don't exactly have a way to reach you. Your cell has been sitting in Luke's office since the last time you were in there."

She cradled the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she started to untie her shoes. "Oh, yeah. If you're around later I could stop by and pick it up?"

"Um, there have been some changes in the past month or so." Clary could hear a slight hesitation in his voice. "I'm not working for the police department anymore."

Clary grabbed the phone with her hand and stood up straight. "What happened? Did you get fired? Did they-"

"Clary, calm down," he interrupted. "I did not get fired. I actually quit."

"Why? Jace, you love that place."

"A better opportunity presented itself. I was going to tell you in person, but I guess over the phone will have to do. The FBI took over the Morgenstern case, and after observing me and looking over my past cases, they offered me a job."

"Oh," Clary responded, feeling oddly disappointed. "That's great news!" She tried to sound enthusiastic.

"What's wrong, Fray? Are you going to miss seeing me every time you get called in?"

Clary scoffed. "Yeah. You wish." If she was being honest with herself, though, she was going to miss that. Working with Jace, no matter how unpleasant it could get, had been one of the few constants in her life. "Are you moving to D.C. or what?"

He laughed. "No, Clare. I'm not moving to Washington. I'm working out of the New York field office, so you can see me as often as you'd like whenever I'm not at work."

"What makes you think I'd want to see you often?" she asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Because I know you can't resist me."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. In fact, I really wish I could see you right now. It's just been way too long since you have graced me with your presence," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Suddenly, there was a knock at her door, and she sighed. "Hold on. Someone's at the door."

Before could respond, Clary set the phone down on the counter and walked toward the door. She undid the locks and opened the door, barely containing a gasp once she saw who was standing there.

"Your wish is my command," Jace said, smirking.

Clary cocked her head to the side. "Damn. I should have made a better wish."

Jace placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt as he entered her apartment. "My presence is the best wish anybody could ever ask for."

Clary crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "What would you have done if I hadn't made a comment, even sarcastic, about wanting to see you?"

He shrugged. "Probably would have showed up anyway. Magnus told me your check up was fine, but I wanted to check in myself."

She chuckled and shook her head. "He told me to expect a phone call, not a house call."

He took a step closer to her and gently cupped her face. "Maybe I just wanted to see your gorgeous face again."

Clary felt the heat rise in her cheeks, and her heart rate picked up slightly as he leaned his face in towards hers. His lips were just centimeters from hers when his phone rang in his pocket. He cursed under his breath and pulled away, fishing the phone out of his pocket.

"Agent Wayland," he answered. His eyes widened at whatever the other person was saying, and he frantically nodded his head. "Yeah. I'll be right there." He glanced at Clary. "And I'll be bringing Clarissa Fray in with me."

Clary's brow furrowed as Jace ended the phone call. "Where am I going with you and why?"

"I'm taking you to the field office. Raphael just turned himself in. He says he wants to help us take down Jonathan."

* * *

 **I meant to get this chapter out sooner but really struggled with it for some reason. Hopefully it wasn't too terrible or disappointing. I'll try to get the next one out in a decent amount of time.**


	19. Chapter 19

For the first time in her life, Clary found herself on the other side of an interrogation table. Across from her sat an agent whose name she couldn't remember. He was watching her with calculating hazel eyes.

"So you did not go with Jonathan Morgenstern willingly?" he asked.

"No!" she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "For the thousandth time, no."

When she had walked into the FBI building with Jace, an agent immediately separated them, taking Clary into the room she was currently sitting in. For the past hour or so, the agent had been asking her questions about Jonathan and what happened. She must have told the same story to him at least five times, and now she was getting agitated.

"You seem to be getting pretty upset, Miss Morgenstern," the agent said.

"It's Fray. My last name is Fray," she responded through gritted teeth.

"Noted. So, you had no contact with your brother before this abduction?"

"No."

The agent opened the folder that was in front of him and pulled out a letter. "So you never received this letter from Jonathan? And you were never approached in person by him at a nightclub?"

"I didn't think that counted. That was him contacting me, and I never made an effort to respond."

"Yet, you kept these interactions secret for a while."

"I didn't think they were that big of a deal. Just him playing mind games with me."

"Or did you just not want people to know he was contacting you because you didn't want them to find out you were working with him?"

"This is fucking ridiculous," she muttered, standing up. "I don't know why you're treating _me_ like a criminal. Jonathan fucking kidnapped me and held me hostage for weeks, but you think I'm _working_ with him?" She felt angry tears begin to burn at the back of her eyes.

"Please, sit down, Miss Morgenstern," the agent said sternly.

"I told you it's Fray!" she screamed as she slammed her palms down on the metal table, hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

The door to the room suddenly flew open, and Jace stood there, golden eyes blazing. "That's enough, Zachariah," he snapped.

Zachariah stood from the table and grabbed his folder. "Don't leave town, Clarissa," he ordered before exiting the room.

Clary slumped back down into the chair, placing her elbows on the table and letting her head fall into her hands. Tears continued to fall from her eyes, and she was trying her best to make them stop.

She heard the chair that Zachariah had vacated scrape against the floor, followed by the sound of someone sitting down. "Are you okay?" Jace asked.

She shook her head, still holding it in her hands. "I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice thick.

"Can't keep doing what?"

"I can't keep having people thinking I'm just like him. This is why I didn't want anybody to know. People can't separate me from my family name, and it's exhausting. I'm tired of having to prove my innocence."

She felt a hand on her arm. "Clare, look at me." She did as asked. "Once we finally have Jonathan, you won't have to worry about it anymore. Everyone will know you're innocent. Luke, Alec, and I have all already vouched for you. Zachariah can just be intense. He likes to be one hundred percent certain about the truth, and he was trying to slip you up. Don't take it personally. He's like that with everyone."

"I don't want to go through that again."

"I know. But you probably will. And if I had known they were planning on questioning you so soon, I wouldn't have brought you with me. I'm so sorry."

She shrugged. "It was going to happen at some point."

"They should have given you more time to process everything, though."

"Did you talk to Raphael?" she asked, changing the subject. She was tired of everyone talking about how she needed to process what happened. She didn't need to process anything. She was home and safe, and that's all that mattered.

"Yeah. I actually wanted to talk to you about that. He was afraid Jonathan would dispose of him now that he couldn't fake being a cop anymore and had no use to him. That's why he turned himself in. He felt he had a better chance with us than with Jonathan."

Clary laughed humorlessly. "He's not wrong."

"The thing is, he's only offering information on one condition. He wants immunity for all crimes he's committed, and the D.A. decided to grant it saying Raphael is just a pawn and we want the king."

Clary waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything else. "Okay. And you wanted to tell me this right now because?"

His brow furrowed as he looked at her. "Honestly, I thought it would upset you. This means he'll be walking free as soon as we have Morgenstern behind bars."

"And?"

"Clary, he's the one who _drugged_ you in order to get you to Jonathan. God knows what else he did while you were there. He's not going to get punished for that. At all."

She gently placed a hand over his, sensing how upset he was getting. "Jace, Raphael is nothing without Jonathan. He's not going to do anyone any harm as long as he's on his own. If he helps us get Jonathan, than I don't care. We could be paying to move him to the Bahamas, and as long as it ended with Jonathan in prison, I'd be fine with it."

He yanked his hand away from her. "How are you being so goddamn calm about this?"

"How are you freaking out about it?" she asked back. " _I'm_ the one who he committed crimes against, yet I'm perfectly fine."

"I'm freaking out because that's what normal people do in this situation, Clary. And if it's not affecting you at all, then maybe your family fucked you up more than you think."

Clary stared at him for a moment, and then stood up without saying a word. He looked at her curiously and watched as she crossed the room to the door. He didn't speak until she opened it.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home."

He stood up and took a step toward her. "Let me drive you back."

She shook her head. "No. I'd rather walk."

She didn't wait for his response before walking out.

* * *

 _The sound of slow, pacing footsteps echoed in the room. She couldn't see who was there, though. There was something covering her eyes. She went to move her arms up and free her vision, but she couldn't. Something was keeping her wrists tied down. Whatever movement she had made caught the attention of the pacer, and their movement stopped._

 _"Ah, you're finally awake," a familiar voice spoke from right next to her. "You've kept me waiting, Clarissa."_

 _"Where am I?" she asked. "What's going on?"_

 _"Did you really think you could escape me?" Jonathan whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver. "I always get what I want, dear sister."_

 _She felt something cool and sharp against her chest and quickly realized it must be a knife. "What do you want, Jonathan?"_

 _"I want you gone. If you're not going to be Morgenstern, you're not going to be at all," he growled before plunging the knife through her chest._

She woke up with a gasp and covered in a cold sweat. She frantically looked around and was relieved to find herself in her own room. It was just another dream. She wasn't back at Jonathan's. She was home.

While her mind was telling her she was safe, she didn't feel it. Something felt off. Since coming home, all she wanted was alone time. But in that moment, the last thing she felt like being was alone.

From under her pillow, she pulled out the kitchen knife that she had been keeping there just in case, and walked out of her room. Without even checking the time, she grabbed the landline off the kitchen counter and dialed the only number on her mind.

The line rang a few times before someone finally picked up. "Hello?" Jace answered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," she said lamely.

"Clary? Are you okay?" he asked, sounding more alert and awake.

"Yeah. I'm good. Um, are you busy?"

"Do you need something?"

"I-I just don't want to be alone right now."

"I'll be right over," he said and hung up before she could say anything else.

Clary put the phone back in its cradle and entered the kitchen. She rummaged through her cabinets, and while she didn't have much, she managed to find an unopened bottle of cheap wine. She dug around for a corkscrew and opened the bottle, filling the largest glass she had. Wine in hand, she padded into her living room, stopping in front of her bookshelf. She pulled out an old, worn book and sat down on the floor.

Taking a sip of the wine, she opened to the first page. Taped to the page was a photo of seemingly picture perfect family. There were two beaming parents standing behind two children who were their spitting images. Clary turned the page to a picture of her and Jonathan. They were sitting on a piano bench, and Clary was completely focused on Jonathan as his fingers moved across the keys.

A drop of water appeared on the photo, and Clary realized she was crying. All the photos in the album depicted a perfectly normal family, but that was so far from the truth. All she wanted was to have a normal family. She wanted to have an older brother to look up to and who would protect her, not one that kidnapped her and caused her physical harm. She wanted a father she could share fond memories of with her friends, not a crime lord she kept secret.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she quickly closed the photo album before getting off the floor. Without removing the chain, she opened the door a crack, making sure it was Jace. She then completely unlocked and opened the door.

"Have you been crying?" Jace asked, the second he walked into her apartment.

Clary wiped at her eyes. "I bet your glad to see me affected in some way," she said. "Might not have been as fucked up by family as you think."

He frowned at her. "Clare, I never should have said that. I was just upset about Raphael getting off scot free, and I couldn't understand why you were okay with it. Honestly, you are one of the strongest people I know, and I have no idea how you do it."

Clary choked out a sob, more tears falling from her eyes. Jace looked at her with alarm with alarm evident on his face.

"Shit. What did I say now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. I'm just not this strong person that you think I am, okay?" she said through tears. "I keep crying over this normal life that I'll never have and I keep having these bad dreams and I'm just pretending to be okay so nobody worries about me."

Jace gently took her by the hand and lead her to her couch. He sat and pulled her down with him. He carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. "Bad dreams? Is that why you called?" She nodded into his chest. "What was it about?" he asked, soothingly running his hands up and down her back.

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I was back at Jonathan's, and h-he didn't keep me alive this time."

"Oh, Clare." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "I won't ever let him touch you again. I promise."

* * *

An unfamiliar beeping pulled her from a dreamless sleep. As she approached consciousness, she felt extremely hot, and there was an odd weight across her torso. With a groan, she opened her eyes and found herself facing her living room, which meant she had to be on the couch.

A light snoring caught her attention, and she turned her head to see Jace behind her, fast asleep. She looked down and saw that his arm was thrown across her waist and their feet were tangled together. She remembered talking on the couch with him about everything and nothing last night, but she couldn't remember laying down or falling asleep.

The beeping noise was still filling the room. Jace's phone was on the table and the screen was lit up. Clary figured it was an alarm and rolled over to face him.

"Jace," she called, her voice scratchy from sleep. When he didn't respond, she called his name louder.

He squeezed eyes closed tighter. "Hm?"

"Your alarm," she sighed, closing her eyes again.

"Fuck," he grumbled. "That's for work."

Instead of getting up like she expected him to, he tightened the arm that was around her waist and buried his face in her hair. She heard his breathing even out again.

"Jace," she whined, poking him in the stomach. "You have to get up."

"No," he mumbled into her hair.

"At least fucking turn the alarm off," she said, annoyed with the incessant beeping.

Sighing, he untangled himself from her and leaned over to turn his alarm off. "I am way too tired to go into work today," he said as he climbed over.

"I'm sorry," Clary yawned as she snuggled deeper into the couch cushions.

"Why are you sorry?" Jace asked, putting on his shoes.

"I kept you up," she mumbled, as her eyes began to feel heavy again.

Jace crouched down in front of her. "Hey, don't apologize for that. I'm always here for you." He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before standing up. "Just try to get some rest, and don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

Clary was back asleep before he even made it to her door.


	20. Chapter 20

Clary paced across the hardwood floor in Jace's and Alec's apartment, chewing her fingernails down until they began to bleed. Jace had left her apartment that morning for work, and she hadn't heard from him since. In fact, nobody had heard from him, and it was nearing midnight. She had called his phone only to be sent to voicemail. She had called Luke, who told her he hadn't heard from him all day. Finally, she showed up to his apartment. He wasn't there, but Alec was, and he also hadn't head from his friend.

Her mind was imagining the worst. Jace was never one to have his phone off, and he always told Alec if he was going to be late. No text was sent and no voicemail had been left. Clary was beginning to imagine the worst. Jonathan was still out there. What if he was using Jace to get to her? What if he had him tied up in that basement and was torturing him at this very moment?

"Can you please stop the pacing and calm down?" Alec asked. He had been sitting on the couch, watching her.

"Calm down?" she scoffed, throwing her hands into the air. "Jace is _missing_ and Jonathan is still out there. What is there to be calm about?"

"It's not an ideal situation, but you staying up all night pacing isn't going to do anything." He stood up from the couch. "I'm going to bed, and I suggest you do that same. You're welcome to stay here if you'd like."

With that he turned and walked to his room, leaving her all alone. She knew Alec was right. Her worrying wasn't helping anything, but she wouldn't be able to sleep at a time like this. Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured Jace in place of all those people who she had seen in Jonathan's basement.

Sighing, she walked toward the bedrooms. Instead of going to the room that she had stayed in before, she went straight to Jace's room. Without turning the light on, she carefully walked across his floor and laid down on his bed. Rolling over, she buried her face into his pillows and inhaled. They smelled like clean linen, soap, and him.

A few tears leaked from eyes, wetting the pillow. Her and Jace were finally getting to a place she liked, and now he was gone. What if he really had been taken by her brother? Would he forgive her for whatever happened? Would she even see him again?

Even with questions and morbid thoughts swirling around her brain, she eventually found sleep.

* * *

She was woken up by someone roughly shaking her arm.

"Clary, come on," Alec said. "Get up."

She forced her eyes open, and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was only six in the morning. She turned her attention to Alec. He had changed out of his sleep clothes and had a frantic look on his face. That look caused her heart rate to pick up. She knew in her stomach that it had something to do with Jace.

"What happened to Jace?" she asked, jumping out of the bed.

"The hospital called. We gotta go now," he said, pushing her out of the room.

"Is- Is he-"

Alec shook his head. "The nurse said it's not life threatening, but that was all the information she was willing to give me over the phone."

He grabbed a set of car keys off the kitchen counter as they walked by. Clary walked numbly behind me. The words _not life threatening_ kept running through her mind. She felt relief at them, but the worry still gnawed at her. What had happened to Jace? Just because his injuries weren't life threatening didn't mean he was okay. Clary had seen the damage Jonathan had caused first hand. Most of it wasn't lethal, but that didn't make it pretty. People had lost appendages, teeth, and other small body parts. What if he had permanently damaged Jace in someway? How could she live with herself knowing her brother had caused him harm in some way?

Alec was silent for the entire drive to the hospital. Clary had a feeling he had similar thoughts occupying his mind. Plus, he and Clary weren't exactly close, and it didn't seem like an appropriate time to be making small talk. Glancing at the speedometer, she noticed he was going well above the speed limit, and was not surprised they arrived at the hospital in record time.

He quickly parked the car, and Clary was out before he even turned the engine off. Alec's long stride allowed him to easily catch up to her, and they entered the waiting room together. Alec strode confidently up to the front desk with Clary an inch behind him.

"I'm looking for Jace Wayland," he told the nurse behind the counter.

"Wayland," she muttered to herself as she typed his name into the computer. Her eyes scanned the screen and she said, "Room 204. Down the hall, take a left."

The second she gave the room number, Clary walked off, not bothering to wait for Alec. Walking as fast as her legs could carry her, she turned at the end of the hall and read the room numbers to herself. Passing room 202, she paused for a second. Was she really ready for whatever was waiting for her in the next room?

Taking a deep breath, she moved onto the next room. The door was cracked open, and she could hear voices inside. She heard Jace laugh and gently pushed the door open.

Jace was sitting on the edge of a crisp, white hospital bed shirtless with a pair of black slacks hanging low on his hips. Standing next to him was a beautiful blonde-haired, green-eyed nurse who was wrapping a bandage around his left bicep. There was a slight blush coloring her cheeks, and she was laughing along with Jace.

Clary pushed the door open a little wider, and the hinges squeaked. Jace's head snapped in her direction. Once his eyes landed on her, a dazzling smile stretched across his lips.

"Oh, hey, Clare," he said.

She just looked at him and burst into tears in response. Every emotion she had been feeling since the first time his phone went straight voicemail caught up with her. She had thought he would be seriously injured, or worse. But here he was. He looked completely fine aside from the bandage on his arm.

The smile from his face, and his eyes widened in alarm. "What's wrong?"

The nurse had finished with the bandage, and she glanced between the two of them. "I'll, uh, leave you guys alone. If you need anything, press the call button," she said before scurrying out of the room.

Clary just stared at him in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she cried. "What's wrong? You disappear without a trace and we get a call about you from the hospital and you ask what's wrong? I thought something terrible happened to you, that's what's fucking wrong!"

"Shit, Clary," Alec said from behind her. "You need to quiet down. I could hear you down the hall." He squeezed past her into the room and sat in the chair next to Jace's bed. "What the hell happened, bro?"

Jace ran the hand of his uninjured arm through the mess of curls on his head. "We got a tip from Raphael about a sudden plan Jonathan had made to intercept another drug shipment. We ambushed them, and I got shot in the crossfire."

Clary gasped, her right hand lifting up to cover her mouth. Jace gave her a crooked smile.

"Don't worry darling, it was a clean shot. Bullet went straight through. I should be all healed in a few weeks."

"What about Morgenstern?" Alec asked.

Jace grinned. "We got him. He's currently being held in the FBI building for questioning before being transferred to a correctional facility."

Alec let out a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his face. "That's the best news I've heard in ages."

Clary stepped farther into the room, putting her back against the wall next to the door before sliding to the ground. Jace and Alec both looked at her.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked, his brow furrowed.

She nodded listlessly. Jonathan was caught. He hadn't taken Jace. He hadn't hurt him. He wasn't going to hurt anyone anymore.

"Are you sure? I thought you'd be a little more excited about the news," Alex said.

She nodded again. "I'm just," she paused, trying to find the write word, "processing it all. Less than twelve hours ago, I thought Jonathan had gotten to Jace. But he didn't. And- And he's in jail now."

"Oh, Clary," Jace said, getting off the bed. He gingerly walked over and sat down next to her, wincing slightly. "Is that why you were so upset earlier?"

"Yeah," she responded, her voice cracking.

He wrapped his uninjured arm around her and kissed her temple."I'm so sorry I had you worried. I just couldn't tell anyone about the mission and we had to leave right then. I didn't think about how it would affect everyone."

"It's fine," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I understand."

"Oh, good. You're here," a voice said from the doorway. They all turned to see Zachariah standing at the entrance of the room. Clary had expected him to be there for Jace, but was surprised to find him staring directly at her.

"Me?" she asked.

Zachariah rolled his eyes. "Yes, you. I need you to come to field office with me."

Clary scoffed at him. "I am _not_ getting harassed by you in an interrogation room again."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't want to question you. Jonathan Morgenstern is refusing to tell us anything without first talking to his sister."

"Absolutely not!" Jace interjected, heaving himself off the linoleum floor.

"I don't believe it's your choice to make, Agent Wayland," Zachariah stated.

"I am not allowing her in the same room with that monster again."

Clary also clamored off the floor, albeit a lot less gracefully than Jace had. She placed her hands on her hips and looked at Jace. "Oh? You're not going to _allow_ me?"

Jace raised his hands up in front of him. "That's not what I meant."

Clary ignored him and turned to Zachariah. "I'll do it."

"But, Clare-"

She put a hand up, signaling for Jace to stop talking. "I need to do this, Wayland. It'll help get him to talk, and, if anything, it might help me get some closure."

* * *

Her stomach was in knots as she followed Zachariah into the viewing room of an interrogation room. Through the mirror, Clary could see Jonathan sitting at a metal table. His hands were cuffed and placed on the table in front of him, and there were shackles around his ankles. He was already wearing an orange Department of Corrections jumpsuit, and she wondered where it came from if he'd been held here the whole time.

"I'll be standing here watching the whole time," Zachariah said. "If anything happens, or if I think things are going south, I'll get you out of there."

She nodded mutely at him, staring at Jonathan for a moment longer before walking through the door next to the one-way mirror. He gave her a predatorial smile as she entered the room.

"Clarissa," he purred. "I am so glad you make it."

Clary pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. She put her elbows on the table and leaned into her hands. "I must say, Jonathan, orange is really not your color."

He smirked at her. "Don't fret, dear sister. I won't be in this hideous attire for too much longer."

She shrugged. "I dunno. I feel like you might have that on for 25 to life."

"I wouldn't be so sure. I am innocent until proven guilty and have a right to a fair trial. My lawyer is on his way, and he hasn't lost a case yet."

"I can't wait to see his reaction when he loses his first one then," she said, taking her arms off the table and leaning back in the chair. "Now, why did you want to speak to me?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Is it a crime for a brother to want to see his sister?"

"If it was, it definitely wouldn't be the worst you've committed. Why am I here?"

"I just wanted to check in with you, Clarissa. See how you were holding up. How's that boy toy of yours healing?"

Clary stiffened. "I don't want you talking about Jace, letting alone _thinking_ about him."

"Ah. So he's a touchy subject now, isn't he? Interesting."

Clary glared at him. "What's interesting?"

He smiled at her, malice in his eyes. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about what a shame it would be if something were to happen to our dear friend Agent Wayland."

"Don't you fucking dare," she forced out through clenched teeth. "You'll be locked up anyway. How are you going to do anything?"

He laughed. "My sweet, naïve Clarissa. Don't you understand? I have people _everywhere_."

"What would you be hoping to accomplish anyway? We already have you. You're already going to prison."

He leaned across the table, getting as close to her as possible. "You burned me, Clarissa. It's only fair I return the favor."

Slamming her hands on the table, she stood up. "You touch him, and you fucking die," she seethed before turning and exiting the room.

The second door the closed behind her, the tough girl façade she had kept up with Jonathan crumpled. Leaning against the door, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her emotions at bay. She was not about to break down in front of Zachariah.

When she opened her eyes again, she was startled to see Zachariah was no longer the only person in the room. Jace and Alec had joined him. Jace had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and his arm was now in a sling. He was looking at her with a soft expression.

"You did a really good job in there, Clare," he said.

"Thanks," she muttered before looking at Zachariah. "I hope he talks to you now."

"I'm sure once his lawyer shows up he will be more than willing. If we get anything good out of him is another story."

"What do you mean?"

"He was right about one thing, Miss Fray. He does have a right to trial. If he doesn't plead guilty, and I have a feeling he won't, this whole thing is going to court. You better prepare yourselves."


	21. Chapter 21

A rush of hot air hit her in the face as she opened the oven door. With an oven mitt covered hand, she pulled out a tray of cookies. Clary set the tray down on top of the stove before turning the oven off. The other four trays worth of cookies she had already taken out were sitting on cooling racks on various counters in the kitchen.

It was the day of Jonathan's arraignment, and she had somehow allowed Jace to convince her not to go. He had been worried, saying that being there would just cause her unnecessary stress. She had agreed to stay home just to make him happy, but not knowing what was going on inside that courtroom was making her anxious. She had turned to baking in an attempt to distract herself and pass time. She was now realizing that she might have gone a little overboard.

There was a knock on the door, and she raced to answer it, knowing it had to be Jace with news. She threw the door open, and he looked up at her slightly startled. He was still in his suit pants, but he had lost the jacket and tie. The first few buttons of his white shirt were undone, and the sleeves were rolled up just past his shoulders. He had his hands shoved into his front pockets and was toeing the line between the hallway and her apartment.

"Can I come in?" he asked, not meeting her eyes.

She gestured for him to enter. "Do you even have to ask?"

He shrugged and stepped inside, pausing to sniff the air. "Are you baking?"

"Uh, yeah. I was just trying to waste some time. Want a cookie?" She took him by the hand and led him into the kitchen. She gently took one of the cookies that was fresh out of the oven off the baking tray and handed it to him.

"Thanks." He took a bite and let out a moan. Her cheeks flushed at the sound. "This is so good," he mumbled around a mouthful of the cookie before quickly finishing the rest of it.

She watched him for a moment before getting to what she really wanted to know. "So, what happened?" she asked, clearing a spot on the counter and jumping up to sit on it.

He leaned against the counter opposite of her, looking behind her and not at her. "He pled guilty to the murder and drug charges."

She released a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "That's great!" She smiled, but his face remained stoic. "Why are you not happy about that?"

His jaw tightened and twitched. "He pleaded not guilty to the kidnapping charge."

"So?" she asked, dragging out the word.

He closed his eyes. "So, that's going to trial. You're going to have to face him in a courtroom as he tries to trivialize what he did to you."

She sighed and reached out a hand. "Come here."

He opened his eyes and looked at her questioningly before taking a step toward her. Once he was within reach, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to her so he was standing between her legs. She placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

"I'm going to be fine, Jace," she said confidently. "It's nothing I can't handle. He just wants to play mind games, but I'm not going to let him win."

Letting out a chuckle, he leaned down to press his forehead against hers. His hands were placed on the counter outside of her thighs. "I feel like I should be the one reassuring you, not the other way around."

She let her eyes flutter closed as his breath fanned across her face. "You don't need to reassure someone who isn't worried."

A groan bubbled up from his throat as he brought his mouth closer to hers. "You're just so resolute, and you have no idea how sexy that makes you."

"Sexy?" she breathed out, her voice slightly shaky.

"Mhm," he hummed, moving his face to run his nose from the top of her ear down to her jaw. "There's just something so alluring about a woman who is as unwavering and brave as you are." He placed a kiss right at the top of her jawbone, behind her ear. "I don't know how you do it." He began to trail kisses down her jaw. "Most people wouldn't be able to put up with half the shit that you do." She threw her head back and grabbed his biceps as he began to kiss down her neck. "Yet, you never back down from the challenge."

Finally, he brought his lips back up to hers. A small moan escaped her as he captured her mouth in his. She moved her hands from his biceps and into his hair, tugging at his golden curls. His tongue traced along her bottom lip, and she eagerly parted her lips to give him access. She felt him move his hands from the counter and onto her thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh as he gave squeeze.

She untangled her fingers from his hair and moved her hands down to his chest, where she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt before finally getting them all undone. Without breaking the kiss, she pushed the piece of fabric off his shoulders. She let her hands roam over his bare chest and stomach, feeling every bump and ridge of his muscles. When she ran finger along the waistband of his pants, he bucked his hips forward, and she felt exactly how much she was affecting him.

Jace's hands danced up her thighs and over her shorts before sliding underneath the cotton of her tank top. His hands skimmed over her stomach for a moment before he brought them back out and gently grasped the hem of the top. He broke their kiss for a second to look at her, silently asking permission. She nodded, realizing how hard they were both breathing. The second the piece of clothing was past over her head, she reattached her mouth to his and wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him against her fully.

Clary moaned into his mouth as his hands groped at her breasts through the lacey material of her bra. She mentally thanked herself for not putting on one of her old plain cotton ones that morning. As his hands moved around her ribcage to the clasp on the back, she ground her hips against him, trying to get friction where she wanted it most. She smiled internally at the groan he released as she did so.

Just as his fingers managed to grip the tiny hooks on her bra, the shrill sound of a phone ringing pierced the air, popping the bubble they had found themselves in. Jace pulled away from her to reach into his pants pocket, and she let out a small whimper.

"Don't answer it," she begged as he looked at the caller ID.

He cursed under his breath. "It's work. I have to." He hit the answer key and put the phone to his ear. "Wayland," he all but growled into the speaker. Clary watched as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. He nodded at whatever the other person was saying, and Clary thought that was funny considering they couldn't see him. "Yeah," he said, opening his eyes and glancing at her with a frown. "I'll be right in."

Clary let out a sigh as he slid the phone in his pocket and bent over to retrieve his shirt from the floor. "You're really going to leave like this."

He looked down as he started to button his shirt. "I don't really have a choice."

"You could have waited five minutes," she whined as she pulled her tank top back on.

He smirked at her as he tucked his shirt into his pants, and her eyes were drawn to the very obvious bulge behind his zipper. "Sweetheart, what I was planning to do you would have taken way longer than five minutes."

She gasped slightly, the words, and the husky voice he said them in, going directly to her core. She slid off the counter and pulled out a plastic zip up bag. "Y-You should at least take some of these cookies with you," she stuttered out, trying to get her mind off of what had just almost happened.

Jace came up behind her as she placed cookies in the bag. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she could feel him pressing into her back. "Believe me, I'd rather be here devouring you than eating these cookies in some boring meeting."

Clary squeezed her thighs together. "If you don't stop talking like that, I'm not going to let you leave." She turned around to face him, shoving the bag into his chest. "And we both don't want you getting fired so early on."

He chuckled at her as he took the bag. "Alright, alright. I'll go." He started walking toward the door, and she followed him. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and turned to her. "By the way, you're going to need to stop by the precinct later. Alec and Magnus found you a lawyer, and would like you to meet him."

"A lawyer?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

He looked at her sadly. "For when the case goes to trial. We're not about to just feed you to the wolves, Clare."

"Oh, right," she muttered. "Thanks."

"Like you said, everything will be fine." He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "I'll call you later." With that, he opened the door and left her apartment.

* * *

Clary once again found herself sitting in an interrogation room. This time, however, she was not alone with some asshole agent. Instead she was sitting with Magnus and Alec as they waited for her lawyer to show up. She sighed and looked at the clock. He should have been there fifteen minutes ago.

"Anxious?" Alec asked, giving her a sympathetic look.

She shook her head. "Just annoyed. I like it when people are on time."

"Woolsey is a very good friend of mine," Magnus said, "and he happens to also be a very excellent lawyer in high demand. I'm sure he just got tied up in another meeting."

"Oh, shit," Clary groaned. "How expensive is he going to be?"

Magnus and Alec glanced at each other. "We actually convinced him to take your case pro bono," Magnus answered.

Clary quirked a brow at them. "Why?"

Alec comfortingly placed a hand over hers. "Because we know Jonathan is going to hire the best lawyer he possibly can, and we're not about to send you out there with some state attorney who barely passed the bar. With everything you've been through, we didn't want worrying about finding a lawyer within your price range to be an issue. Magnus put me in contact with Woolsey, and I explained the entire situation to him, along with how much you've helped us out on cases in the past, and he agreed to take you on, no charge."

Clary felt tears prick at the back of her eyes. She had never expected Alec to go out of his way like this for her. Before she could thank him, the door to the interrogation room opened and a man entered. He was wearing a very expensive looking suit, and his blond hair was slicked back so not a single strand was out of place.

"So sorry I'm late," he said as he took a seat across from the trio. "I got held up at the office and then traffic was a nightmare." He set a briefcase down on the table before looking up at them. His green eyes met Clary's, and he extended a hand. "I'm Woolsey Scott. You must be Clarissa?" he asked.

She grabbed his hand and shook it. "It's just Clary."

"Alright, Clary." He nodded. "Alec has told me all about your situation, and I did some of my own digging into the case. I find it very odd that Jonathan would plead guilty to everything but your abduction?"

Clary exhaled loudly. "I'm pretty sure this is just him playing a mind game with me. He wants me to relive what happened one more time or whatever." She waved a hand dismissively in the air, even though she was beginning to feel knots form in her stomach at the idea of sitting in a room full of strangers and having them all learn about what had taken place in Jonathan's house, specifically the basement.

Woolsey looked at Alec and Magnus. "I would like to have some time alone with Clary," he said. "Attorney-client privilege and all that."

"Oh! Of course," Magnus said as he stood. "We just didn't want to leave her waiting here all by herself."

"Understandable," Woosley smiled.

Alec also stood up, and he gently squeezed Clary's shoulder as he did so. "We'll be right outside if you need anything."

Woolsey watched the two men exit, and then turned his attention back to her. "What exactly happened while you were held captive by Jonathan Morgenstern? And don't leave _anything_ out. I need to be prepared for anything thrown at us by Morgenstern's lawyers."

Clary looked down at her lap and launched into the whole story. She didn't leave any details out. She told him about the basement and everything that happened down there, including when she participated in Jonathan's interrogations. She told him about her capture and escape, and everything that happened in-between. She told him about the time she attacked Jonathan, and how he retaliated. She told him about the time Jonathan forced her to hurt another human being. Woolsey had watched her carefully the whole time, and she wondered if he was trying to gauge how truthful she was being.

When she finished the story, he clicked open the briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers.

"I believe we will easily be able to win this case," he said. "It seems like everything you did was either involuntary or done in order to survive." He slid the stack of papers over to her. "This is everything you need to know about attorney-client privilege. Nothing you told me in this room has to leave unless it's brought up the defense. There's also all of my contact information in there."

Clary nodded and looked up at him. "Thank you."

"There's just one more thing." He closed his briefcase and stood up. "If at any point you feel like you can't stand to go on trial, let me know. We can drop the charges. He's already going to jail for a really long time, this isn't going to affect that."

She shook her head. "No. If I drop the charges, then he wins. He'll know he got to me, and I can't let that happen."

Woolsey smiled at her. "You're a very brave woman, Miss Fray. I'm glad I to have the opportunity to represent you."


	22. Chapter 22

Clary rubbed the sweat of her palms on the material of her skirt as she looked out at the crowd of people in front of her. Every single pair of eyes were on her, and her stomach felt as knotted as a tangled ball of yarn. There were a few familiar faces sprinkled in, namely Jace, Alec, and Luke. However, everyone else was a stranger, come to watch the spectacle of Jonathan Morgenstern's trial.

A slender woman stood directly in front of her. Her scarlet hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her clear, blue eyes were calculating. She had on a charcoal gray pencil skirt and blazer combination with a dark purple blouse underneath. Her black heels clicked on the floor as she paced slowly in front of the witness stand.

"Miss Fray," the woman, Seelie Queen, began, "you are trying to convince the court that my client, your own brother, kidnapped you?"

"Yes," Clary said, trying to keep her voice as even as possible.

"You might be able to see how I could have a hard time believing that. Why would a brother go through the effort of abducting his own sister?"

"I don't know. He's psychotic."

"Is it true that you kept your relation to Mr. Morgenstern a secret from the detectives working on his case?"

"Yes, but I-" Clary wanted to talk about Luke had known the whole time and supported her decision, but she didn't get the chance.

"Why would you keep such a huge part of your identity a secret, Miss Fray?" Seelie interrupted. "That seems awful dishonest and distrustful."

Clary knew what Seelie was trying to do. She was trying to take away her credibility, make the jury believe she couldn't be trusted. "I did it because I didn't want people knowing I share the same blood as that _monster_ ," she spat out, staring at Jonathan, who was sitting at the defendant's table with a smirk plastered on his face.

"So you did not do it to hide the fact you were working with your brother all along? And this so-called kidnapping wasn't just a ploy to cover it up?"

"He had someone fucking _drug_ me! Why would that be necessary if I were just playing along with him?" she shouted.

"There's no need for that sort of language, Miss Fray," Judge Aldertree said from the bench. "Continue, Miss Queen."

"We have video evidence of you working with Mr. Morgenstern, Miss Fray." Seelie snapped her fingers, and a man walked in, wheeling in a TV set. Seelie grabbed a disk off of the defendant's table and inserted into a player on the set. "I must warn the jury and gallery of the graphic nature of what I'm about to show you."

Seelie held a remote in her hand and pressed play, and Clary's heart dropped as Jonathan's basement appeared on screen. There were recordings of everything that happened in that basement, of every interrogation Clary had helped Jonathan during. She felt bile rise in her throat and tears sting at the back of her eyes as the footage played on the screen.

She chanced a glance at Jace as the recordings played. The look on his face pushed her over the edge, and tears began to fall freely from his face. His jaw was tight, and there was hatred burning in his eyes. He was avoiding looking at her, and she knew whom that hatred was for. With the press of a button, Seelie had turned Jace against her again.

The video stopped, and Seelie stood in front of Clary once again. "Now, if you weren't working with Jonathan the whole time, why would you be helping him in his little interrogations?"

"Because I was afraid for my life!" she cried out.

"And what evidence do you have for that?"

"There's footage on there of him _stabbing_ me! And then he locked me in a room for weeks!"

Seelie pressed a button on the roommate, and footage rewinded. "He stabbed you in self defense, after you stabbed him first, Miss Morgenstern."

She didn't show the footage of Clary tied in a chair as Jonathan stabbed her, instead showed Clary turning on him and sinking a knife into his arm. Clary wanted to talk about how that was taken out of context. She wanted it shown how Jonathan had forced her to harm another human being before that, but Seelie once again kept her from saying her piece.

"No further questions, your honor," Seelie said, turning around and sitting down next to Jonathan.

"You may return to your seat, Miss Fray," Judge Aldertree said.

Clary stood on shaky legs and left the witness stand. Instead of taking her seat next to Woolsey, she kept walking. She quickly walked down the aisle between the two sides of the gallery and out the double doors at the back. Once in the hallway, she ran to the bathroom and into a stall, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Everyone in that courtroom had to hate her now. They all had to believe what Seelie had planted in their minds. Now, she was just an accomplice. She was no longer a victim of Jonathan's, but a willing partner. Jonathan might be going to prison for murder, but he would be found innocent of kidnapping, and he would win.

The footage on that tape kept playing through her mind as she sat on the bathroom floor, leaning against the toilet. She thought of every person she had watched Jonathan torture in that basement. Every person whose screams echoed off those walls. Every person she hadn't been able to help. Every person who thought she was just as much a monster as her brother.

Clary heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and stilled.

"Clary?" a voice called out.

"Go away, Alec," she responded, her voice thick. "This is a _women's_ bathroom."

"And I don't give a shit," he said, appearing next to her. "What the hell was that? Why did you just run out of there like that?"

"I- I had to get out," she choked out, the tears coming again. "H-He hates me now."

"Who hates you?"

"Jace! He wouldn't look at me, and that-that look on his face just made it so obvious. He saw all the terrible things I did, and now he hates me."

"Are you a goddamn idiot?"

"Is now really the time to insult me?" she asked, looking up at him.

"When you're being stupid, yes. Now, get off the floor and let's go back in there."

She stood up, but shook her head. "I can't go back in there. Not right now. I need to go home. Just tell them I'm sick or something."

She shoved past him and left before he could say a word back.

* * *

The only sound was the rain as it poured down from the sky and the thunder that crackled in the distance. Clary was lying on her couch, a throw blanket wrapped around her body. Her apartment was pitch black. Sometimes a streak of lightening would shine through the window, illuminating the living room for a brief second.

She was staring at the blank screen of her television, actually thankful that the night's storm had cut the power. She was enjoying the solitude of the darkness and silence. Since leaving the bathroom at the courthouse, she hadn't talked to anyone. Her phone had rung nonstop for a few hours, but she ignored, not in the mood for any conversation that would happen.

A knock came from her front door, but she didn't make a move to answer it. She hoped that if she pretended not to home, whoever it was would go away. The person knocked again, though. She remained silent still, but they kept knocking, each time getting louder. Reluctantly, she got up, wanting them to stop before they disrupted her neighbors and got her in trouble.

She angrily threw open the door to find Jace standing in the hallway. He was soaking wet from the rain and water dripped from his blonde hair. Clary opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing there, but before she could say anything, he was on her. One hand gripped the back of her neck and the other pressed on her lower back as he put his lips on hers. She instinctively kissed him back, their mouths moving together like well-practiced dance partners.

All too soon, he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

"I could never hate you Clare," he whispered, his golden eyes barely visible in the darkness of the room.

"What?" she breathed, still slightly stunned.

"Alec told me what you said. I could never hate you. I don't know how you thought I did."

She took a small step away from him. "But in the courtroom you-"

He shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle. "Oh, Clare. Whatever you think you saw wasn't directed at you."

"It wasn't?"

He reached out for her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back against him. "No. It was directed at that bastard Jonathan. He's the one I hate." He enveloped her in a hug, resting his chin on top of her head. "I hate what he did to. I hate what he made you do. I hate the way his lawyer tried to make you look. I hate everything about him."

She pressed her face into his chest. "So you don't hate me?"

"Just the opposite, Clary." He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. "I think I might love you."

Her heart hammered at his words, and she pulled away just enough to look up at him. "Show me," she whispered.

"What?"

"Show me you love me," she reiterated.

His brow furrowed. "I'm not following you."

She reached up, placing her hands against his chest. "Make love to me."

His eyes widened and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Clary, I can't."

She started to run her hands down his chest and toward his abdomen. "Why not?"

He gently grabbed wrists right as her hands approached the waistband of his jeans. "Believe me, I really really want to," he said, his voice breathy. "But we can't. You've had an emotional day."

"So?"

"If I'm going to make love to you, I want you to be in the right state of mind. I don't want you distracted by anything else. I want to have you focused completely on me and what I'm making you feel."

She sighed, knowing he was right. "Will you at least sleep with me?"

"Clary, you can't just call it a different name and expect me to do it."

She giggled at the exasperation in his voice. "No, Jace. I literally meant sleep. Just you and me lying down and actually sleeping."

"That I can do."

She took his hand and carefully led him through the dark apartment to her bedroom. She changed out of her clothes, which he had gotten wet, and into a pair of pajamas as Jace stripped down to his boxers, which were relatively dry. She pulled back the comforter and got into bed, Jace following behind. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly against him.

Secure in his arms, she easily fell asleep. And just for a night, she was able to pretend like nothing mattered other than her and the man next to her. She was able to pretend that there wasn't an evil brother sitting in a jail cell somewhere waiting to get sentenced, and she was able to pretend that for just once everything was normal in her life.


End file.
